First on Five
by Kyriebess
Summary: Gordon is finally sent to do his first month up on Five, but things aren't going as anyone planned. Does everyone have to be good at everything or is it ok to just be the best at one thing? Multichapter fic with lots of h/c, screw ups, and redemptions.
1. Sunday

_Hello all, I'm back. I've taken a long hiatus from writing as my brother had been very sick last year and then, unfortunately, last September he died. Today would have been his 34__th__ birthday. So I'm posting this story in memory of him. It's kind of rusty because I was out of practice for so long, but hopefully the plot's entertaining enough._

_It is a predominately h/c plot, so if you don't like those, you won't like this. It's all from John's POV and every single one of the characters (in the Tracy family) screw up at some point during the story. If you don't like your favorite character to be imperfect, you won't like this. There is a lot of redemption though, some obvious, others, more subtle._

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Thunderbirds or their characters. I'm making no money from this. This is for fun and entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended. Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Anderson for inventing the Thunderbirds and sharing their story with the world.**

**Warnings: A bit of grossness and some BAD words in a later chapter (I'll let you know when).****  
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**Dedicated to Michael. Love you and miss you, bro.**

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**Chapter 1: Sunday**

"FAB, Father."

Smiling, I signed off and swiveled my chair to look out the window. Far below me, the Earth shined, a blue and white sphere containing everyone I cared about. Well, everyone with the exception of one. Apparently Gordon was on his way up in Three to join me.

Still grinning, I shook my head. Father and Scott had been discussing this for awhile now. Although Alan and I were the usuals up here, both Scott and Virgil had done their time on Five as well. Both spent a week with me training them directly and then spent the rest of the month on their own. Neither had been back since Alan and I both looked forward to our time up here and Scott's and Virgil's talents had better use on the ground level. Gordon's talents _certainly_ had better use on the ground level as well, but father felt it was important for all International Rescue Operatives to have experience with all the equipment.

Really, Gordon should have been up here earlier, but the hydrofoil accident and the long recovery had gotten in the way. Gordon had been recovered for a few years now and despite his avoidance of the issue, clearly our father felt it was time for him to complete a tour on Five.

So, he was on his way, about to spend his first night on board a space station. My smile faded. Gordon on board my space station... Worse, a _bored_ Gordon on my space station, because let's face it, Gordon didn't quite share the same love for space that Alan I did. Damn... He was going annoy the hell out of me.

Concerned now, I bit my lip. Shit. I had a week to train him before leaving him on his own. That meant a week of dodging pranks and then coming back to whatever booby traps he left for me. Shit, shit, shit.

With a grimace, I put my hands over my face and leaned back in my chair. I whined into my hands. This was so going to suck. Scott and Virgil weren't overly excited about being up here either, and to be honest, Scott had been extraordinarily annoying when he was here, he needed to know the reasoning behind every single freakin' protocol we had. I came close to throwing him out the airlock without a suit. But neither Scott nor Virgil had Gordon's gift of hyperactivity. Sure, he had spent six months underwater on a submarine while he was with WASP, but Gordon's love for the sea and everything in it provided a focus for the never ending energy. There was no sea up here in space. He was going to be bouncing off the walls...

"Thunderbird Five from Thunderbird Three."

Speak of the devil. I switched the video link. "Five receiving, go ahead Gordon."

A serious face greeted me. "I'm on final approach. Extinguishing thrust and aligning locks."

I turned my attention to Five's airlock controls. The entire procedure that connected Three to Five could be completed independently from either ship, but as it was Gordon's first solo up here, I figured I'd give him a hand. "Airlock ready to accept."

I heard the whine of Three's docking through the video screen. Followed by Gordon's confirmation. "Lock's connected. Initiating shut down procedures."

I nodded. "Okay, I'll secure the lock and meet you on the other side."

"FAB." And the screen went dark.

Three minutes later I found myself standing by the doors, waiting for them to open. I folded my arms and stared at the seam where the door was sealed. What could he possibly be doing in there? I half expected to find _him_ waiting for _me_. It didn't take three minutes to shut down.

Finally, there was a hiss and the seam separated.

I looked up and found my brother standing on the other side of the door, bouncing on his toes. Oh boy, he was _already_ bouncing. His lack of a space suit gave me some insight as to what he'd been doing the past few minutes. Readjusting the duffel he had flung over his back, he stepped out of one ship and into the other.

I smiled at him. "Hey." I hit his shoulder and he looked at me. "You ready to be an astronaut?"

"No." His head went down and he took two steps away from me before turning back around. "I don't know where to put my stuff."

Okay... that was odd. Gordon was acting distinctively, well, un-Gordon like. Deciding to ignore his strange behavior for the moment, I walked past him. "Follow me."

I brought him around the ship before hitting a button and opening a door to a tiny room. When I say tiny, I mean _tiny_. It was the spare room on the ship, complete with a foam mattress on the floor. Hey, Five was built to be manned by one and other than these brief training periods and Brains' occasional upgrading visits, this was a solo job. I moved out of the way so that Gordon could see his 8'x4' room.

He looked down at the mattress and swallowed. "Is there a light?"

"Yeah." I flicked the switch and an overhead bulb turned on.

With a relieved exhale, he carefully stepped over the mattress and placed his bag on the lone shelf. When I had showed Scott and Alan the room, both of them had argued with me, refusing to stay in it. Eventually, they both had, but Alan left the door open. I think Scott honestly thought I was messing with him. Hey, it wasn't _me_ who didn't spring for the bigger second bedroom. I decided to give Gordon a break. "It's just for this week. After that you can take my room. It's bigger and there's a real bed."

He shrugged. "It's fine. On the sub we didn't get rooms and we didn't even really get a bed. We shared enclosed beds based on staggered shifts. This is fine for me."

And there you go. Well, Gordon may have always had high energy, but he was also always incredibly easy going. Speaking of the high energy though...it was distinctly missing. "What's up with you?"

He looked up at me confused.

I went to explain but he interrupted me, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, John. I didn't even say hello to you."

In two steps he engulfed me in a hug. "Hi, John."

I was never big on physical affection, men don't hug, but Gordon felt differently about that- always had. I returned the hug briefly, slapping him on the back. "Hey, Gordon."

He pulled back and I got a good look at him. He had bags under his eyes. "Are you okay?"

The head went down again. "Um..." He looked at me apologetically. "Don't take this the wrong way, I know how much you love space and all that."

I found a smile tugging at my lips as he stumbled through whatever he was trying to say. "But, I really hate the idea of not being on Earth. It freaks me out."

I laughed. "Says the man who spent six months in a tin box under 2000 tons of water pressure."

"That's...that...that doesn't make sense. I'm not freaked out by hydrostatic pressure. I'm freaked out by a lack of atmosphere."

"Well, _I'm_ not too keen on 2000 tons of water pressure constantly pushing down on me."

"First of all, at the deepest point, it's _8_ tons of hydrostatic pressure per square inch, not 2000. And second, _you _don't have to spend a month there...alone. I hate being alone."

His breathing started to pick up and I suddenly realized that this wasn't just a casual conversation, he was close to a panic attack. I put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, you're not alone right now. I'm with you so just live in the moment. You're fine right now, you're safe, you're not on your own. You'll be fine. Don't worry about me leaving right now. By the time that happens, you'll be a lot more comfortable with being here." Being the 'voice of International Rescue,' you get quite adept at calming people on the verge of panic.

He nodded quickly and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Forcing a smile, he nodded towards the main room. "We should let Dad know I docked."

I cringed. Yep, we should've done that about ten minutes ago. "If he asks, you just got on board."

He shot me a scandalized expression, "John! Are you asking me to _lie_ to father?"

Well, it seemed the panic attack was over. Gordon was back to his true irritating self. I didn't even respond- no point in reinforcing his obnoxiousness.

I got a genuine laugh for my lack of response. "You want me to grab my duffel again to make it look more authentic?"

Rolling my eyes, I continued to ignore him and moved into the control room. Walking up to the console, I paused. I was training Gordon now, might as well get started. "You want to do the honors?"

The smile vanished from his face instantly and he shook his head. Okay...what was that about? This was going to be a long week. Moving on, I pushed the button. "Base from Thunderbird Five."

Immediately, my father's face appeared. He must have been waiting for the call then.

"Hi John. Gordon on board?"

I nodded and moved slightly to the left so my father could see my brother behind me. Dad nodded his approval and directed his question to Gordon. "How was the flight, son?"

Gordon straightened to military attention before responding, "Flight was smooth, Sir; no deviations from standard operating conditions. Control was set to document the flight for your approval, Sir."

Whoa. I raised my brows at that one. All of the Thunderbirds had flight recorders that could be set at various levels. Normally they were set to record any deviations from standard operating conditions so that malfunctions could be repaired or pilot error could be uploaded to the simulator for further practice. There was a second level of recording though, which when turned on, recorded every aspect of the flight. It really had been installed for security purposes to be activated remotely if a 'Bird was hijacked. Theoretically, it could also be used to 'supervise' a pilot in training, but we had only discussed using it in that context. It never happened. To ask one of us to do that would just be insulting. I couldn't imagine a reason my father would have for asking Gordon to record the flight in full.

"That isn't necessary, son. I have no reason to question your piloting skills."

My father's voice brought my attention back to the vid-screen. I knew that look, dad was pissed. At least he hadn't actually questioned Gordon's piloting. Still, obviously _something _had gone on. Gordon's formal speech and stance was _not_ standard operating procedure.

Behind my father, my brother Alan got my attention. "John, I am _so_ glad that it's you up there with him and not me. I don't know what he has planned, but I'd sleep with one eye open tonight if I were you."

I smiled; I had been thinking the same thing. "If Gordon knows what's good for him he'll keep his plans in the planning stage. Otherwise he might find himself floating up here alone."

Next to me there was a quick intake of breath and looking over, I found Gordon staring at me with betrayal in his eyes.

Immediately my face flushed. I hadn't meant anything by that, but I could see by his expression that he thought I was mocking his confession of fear. Shit. I'd have to apologize after we signed off.

Scott's voice popped up through the speaker. "Hey John, do me a favor?"

"What?"

"When you get to the part of the training where you put on the suits and inspect the outer ship, give Gordon the long tube and record it for me." The tube was an extension cord that kept it's user from floating away into outer space. One of the tubes was too long for the job and if you used it, you'd find yourself being the ball in a game of paddle ball with Five- not fun.

"That's part of the training?"

My attention was drawn back to Gordon. He was literally shaking. He wasn't kidding when he said space freaked him out and believe me, Gordon is _not_ an easy scare. I should know, I've tried to scare him every Halloween for the past 25 years and have failed every time.

"Yep, you have to stay out there for a full hour. It's not too bad, as long as you can dodge the meteors." And now Virgil was in on it.

"He's right, Gords. You get hit by one of those suckers and you'll get knocked back so hard the tube will just unsnap..."

Another look at Gordon told me he was actually believing this. "Knock it off, Alan."

My youngest brother feigned innocence. "What? I'm just giving him some advice. I spend six months out of the year there too you know."

Before I could respond, Scott chimed in again. "I wasn't kidding about the long tube, John. You do me that favor and I might be able to score you those Flourish tickets you wanted..."

I could hear Gordon's rapid breathing next to me and my protective instincts kicked into full gear. "Scott, cut it out."

The smile wiped off his face and he looked startled. Before he could recover, I turned my attention back to my father. "I'm going to help Gordon get settled and then begin the training."

I received a nod of response. "Okay. Keep us in the loop of any activity."

"FAB, Father."

He smiled at Gordon. "Good luck up there." And then turned to me. "To both of you."

It wasn't an unusual statement, we all kidded each other all the time and I could tell by his expression that he was just joking around. But given the barrage of teasing Gordon had just endured, and how nervous he was about being up there, I found myself angered by my father's comment.

After a moment of staring, I realized that I wasn't going to be coming up with a good response anytime soon, so I settled for, "Goodbye, Father." And shut off the vid-screen.

The phone call over, I turned back to my brother. "Hey, I'm sorry about the ditching you crack. I didn't mean anything by it. I wasn't even thinking when I said it."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I know. Sorry. I'm just on edge."

Clearly...his hands were still trembling. "So, uh, what was with the military report?"

With a loud sigh, he dropped into the second chair. "Father and I had a relatively heated disagreement about my coming up here." He looked at me. "I really don't want to do this. And I know, I get it, don't let fear keep you down and all that. But John, being up here scares the crap out of me and I tried to tell him. You know, I get that I have to do this, don't get why, but fine, dad's made it a requirement of IR that all operatives do a solo tour on Five. That's fine...I guess. But even if I _have_ to do this, I thought maybe there'd be another way. Maybe I could go up for the last week of your shift and then Alan's shift and keep spending weeks at a time up here with you guys until I felt more comfortable. It wouldn't even be more in fuel because we'd be flying to pick you up anyway..." He laughed and rubbed a hand over his face before continuing. "You know what Father's response to that was?"

I shook my head.

"Ironically, it was something like, 'That would put you up there for a longer period of time all together and we need you down here in case we're called for a deep sea rescue.' You know, 'cause I'm the only one that has expertise and training at those depths."

My brow furrowed. "So-"

"So why am I up here at all? I have no freakin' idea. I asked that. What happens if there's a deep sea rescue in the next month?" Gordon gave an impression of my father. "If that happens, son, we'll send someone up to get you." He glared in my direction. "So even though we have 5 people on the team that can run Five _and_ Five can be automated if we need, and even though only _1 _of us can do a deep sea rescue, father felt it was important that I spend a month up here. Essentially it came down to him, as commander of International Rescue, ordering me to be stationed up here. So having learned my place, I reported appropriately."

I rolled my eyes. Gordon had always had a flair for the dramatic. Still, he had very good points. He _was_ the only one who could conduct a deep sea rescue and including Brains, there _were_ 5 of us who could competently handle Five. It would seem that the more prudent measure of training would be to have Gordon train someone deep sea on Four, not send Gordon up to Five...not that I wanted to ever go through a deep sea training program.

I wasn't kidding when I told Gordon that being under all that pressure freaked me out. I don't even like it when we're scuba diving deep enough to worry about pressure. The one time I went with him, I was so afraid of getting the bends that I spent twice as long coming up than I needed to. Then I had to worry about running out of air. Gordon had laughed at me the whole way, but he also stayed next to me, keeping me from floating up when I wanted to remain at that depth. In fact, despite the laughing, he had been very understanding about the whole thing, and let me take the lead on how slowly we ascended. I hated every second of it.

"You're right, you know. We really should have deep sea training. It's not good that we only have one member who can do it."

He shook his head. "It's alright. Worst comes to worst, Four can be operated remotely, which doesn't help as far as deep sea knowledge, but it removes the danger if someone else has to perform the rescue. Besides, I'm not comfortable training someone in a week; I'd need at least 6 months to know that whoever I'm training can handle themselves at an expert level. The sea is a dangerous place, especially at that depth, and the simulators aren't close to sufficient."

I nodded in understanding, and a little bit of relief. Father was unlikely to force us to train deep sea on Four if Gordon was requiring a six month training period. Unlike the simulators for Four, the simulators for Five did a pretty good job. So after full simulator training, a one week training period was really all my brothers needed up here. And so far, that formula had worked.

Okay, well, whether he liked it or not, Gordon was up here for the next month, so it was time to move on. Standing, I spun his chair towards the kitchen. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. You ready for some yummy dehydrated dinner?"

We actually had some pretty good food up here, but Gordon didn't know that yet and truth be told, I always got a kick out of making my brothers think they'd have to eat dehydrated space food for the next month.

He shook his head. "No, grandma made me a big sending off lunch. I'm stuffed...and a little nauseous from the flight."

I nodded. "Okay then. I'm just going to grab something in the kitchen. Why don't you monitor the airwaves until I get back."

"FAB."

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

I had rummaged through half the food packets looking for the turkey when my brother walked in carrying a covered glass container. I paused in my ministrations and looked at him confused.

He handed the container over to me. "Here, I brought you up some leftovers from home."

I stared at him suspiciously for a moment before opening the container. The scent of my grandmother's mashed potatoes, porkchops, and apple stuffing wafted up at me. My mouth watered. Resealing the container, I squinted at my sibling. "What'd you do to it?"

Looking confused, he shook his head. "Nothing. I felt bad that you haven't had grandma's food for five months."

I wasn't buying that for a second. "Yeah, I'll bet. Why don't you take a bite out of it first then?"

"I told you, I'm nauseous."

Uh huh...sure. "So what's in here? A laxative? Ipecac?"

"Ipewhat? John, there's nothing wrong with the food. It's straight from grandma's oven to that container."

I put the container down and resumed rummaging.

"John, I'm not pranking you."

"Uh huh."

"Look, I know you think I have all these things planned to torture you, but I don't. I just want to get this the hell over with and I really don't need to be worrying about you retaliating against me. Being here terrifies me enough as it is."

I turned back to him. "That's exactly what you would say if you wanted me to drop my guard. I know you too well Gords. There is no way you came up here without major plans for a prank. This opportunity is way too good for you."

He took a breath. "John, I swear on mom's grave that I'm not going to prank you up here. "

That completely took me off guard. "Whoa, Gordon." Swearing on mom's grave was a sacred, extreme measure that we only ever used when absolutely necessary.

"I don't want you thinking I'm going to prank you. I don't want retaliation. Please."

He was serious. I help up my hands. "Okay. I believe you. And I won't prank you either, okay?"

His breathing was fast paced again. Looking down, I noticed his hands were back to shaking. Shit. He needed to calm down about being up here. He was going to give himself a heart attack. "Gords, you need to calm down. I know you don't like it up here, but you're fine. Take a deep breath."

He followed the direction, but the breath was shaky. He swallowed hard. "Do we really need to suit up and go outside as part of the training?"

I nodded. "In case a meteor hits, you need to be able to go out and repair it. Alan said you did great with the simulation at home."

Pulling out one of the dining chairs, he sat at the table. "That's because I knew we were on Earth and there was no danger of something happening and me floating off into space for all eternity."

I sat across from him and reopened the container. "Gordon, they were just teasing you. You're not going to float off into space."

He shook his head. "I'm not doing it, John."

Oh boy...It was going to be a REALLY long week. "It's not an option. You _have _to know how to repair the ship if something happens. What's your plan when you're alone up here? If a meteor hits, you'll need to put on the suit and go fix it."

He folded his arms on the table and dropped his head into them.

I tried to reassure him as I savored the mashed potatoes. "You'll be fine. You're one of the most competent people I know."

"I'm not an astronaut," came the muffled reply.

That was true. "Neither is Virgil."

"Can I forgo the suiting up if I admit Virgil's better than I am?"

I laughed. "You going to tell him to his face?"

He picked his head up, looking tired. "I'll call him right now if it gets me out of it."

With a shake of my head, I dashed his hopes. "Sorry, bro. The training's non-negotiable."

He looked me square in the eye. "I'm not doing it."

Another thing about Gordon- the few times in his life when he's put his foot down about something, he's been immovable. Sure, Scott, Alan, and my father definitely qualify as more stubborn in personality, but when it comes to certain things, Gordon's obstinance surpasses them all. After all, by all medical rights, Gordon should've died in that crash, and even then, he should've stayed in a coma, stayed paralyzed, stayed on a ventilator. Infallible courage, determination, and stubbornness defied all that...and Gordon won. And now I was up against it?

I just wanted to enjoy the first home-cooked meal I'd had in five months. "We'll discuss it when we get there. It's not for a few days."

He took the hint and dropped his head back onto his arms causing the fork to clatter against the glass dish.

"You look tired."

The muted voice returned. "I didn't sleep well last night."

Well that explained some of his nerves, but Gordon could usually function pretty well on little sleep. It wasn't like he was Alan... "We'll hit the sack early tonight."

Tired eyes peeked out at me. "How do you even know when tonight is?"

"The ship still runs on Australian Eastern Daylight Time, just like home."

"You can say what you want, but time is based on the spinning of the Earth. Since we are not on the Earth, there is no time."

I laughed to hear Gordon being philosophical. "We orbit the Earth, so we spin with it."

He shook his head. "Time in a day is based on actual spinning, the year is based on revolving around something. If we orbit, then we just have a shorter year because we spin around the Earth, not the sun. We still have no day or night or time."

The porkchops tasted great. "So you're saying that despite the fact that we are in a geostationary orbit and we orbit the Earth in a 24 hour period, that shouldn't count as a day because we're not spinning and instead, we should count the 24 hours as a year."

He nodded and dropped his head back down.

"You know, whether you're up here or on Earth, you, yourself are not spinning. Five spins with the Earth, we get daytime and nighttime the same time home does."

"Yeah, but at home the light's filtered. Here it's a heated, ultra-violet death ray."

Oye. "You're a real pessimist, you know that?" I picked up the container and sealed it in the vacuum bag to be brought home. The water on the ship was reserved- and not for washing dishes.

"Thanks for the food."

He picked his head up; now he just looked sad. "You're welcome."

With a smile, I slapped him on the arm. "Come on, I'll start filling you in on blackout procedures."

"Great. Can't wait." Pushing himself up, he followed me out the door.

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_I promise, it'll get more exciting. This is just setting the stage. I'd love some feedback if you have the time! And thanks for reading!_


	2. Monday

_Hi all! Thank you all so much for returning to read chapter 2! And big heaps of thanks to those who reviewed. I couldn't respond to three of you, Whirlgirl, Overkalix, and Angela-Marie. So I'd just like to say thank you for your feedback and your kind sentiments. I really appreciated them. There is lot more of vulnerable Gordon to come, so hopefully you'll continue to enjoy._

_I'd also like to apologize in advance for the one-lined joke about Italy. I mean no disrespect to Italy or the Italian people. I actually am Italian; I've been to Italy; I love Italy; the majority of my friends are Italian; my family is Italian. The joke is just meant to be a joke. I truly apologize if it offends anyone._

_And now, on with the story:_

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_**Chapter 2: Monday-**

The next morning, I awoke, stretching the cramps out of my muscles. I looked at the clock- 5:30 am. Damn. That was early. As I promised my brother, we had called it a night much earlier than I normally would. I had gotten a good eight hours in, which meant I wasn't going to be falling back to sleep anytime soon. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I rolled off my cot and pulled on my uniform. Might as well get to the control room, shut off the auto-monitor, and check the airwaves.

Upon walking into the control room, I froze. The monitors were all up and on-line. My heart stopped. Had I forgotten to put the monitors on automatic? Had there been an emergency that I missed?

With a rush of fear I walked up to the monitors to check their settings.

"Hey."

The chair swiveled towards me and I jumped two feet into the air. Breathing hard with my hand on my chest, I addressed my brother. "You scared the crap out of me! What...How long have you been up?"

He winced. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. I figured since I was up I might as well actively monitor the airwaves."

I noticed that he evaded my question. "How long have you been up?"

His expression was enough for me to know I wouldn't like the answer. Call me glutton for punishment, but I wanted it anyway. "Gordon...how long?"

"Since 10."

My brows went up. "We went to bed at 9:30."

He stared out at the monitors as though he hadn't heard me. He wanted me to drop it, but that wasn't going to happen. He hadn't slept well the night before and now he was running on no sleep? "So you got no sleep."

"I got a half hour...ish."

"So what happened?"

"Nothing."

His playing with the monitors as a means to ignore me was irritating. I flipped the switch that put everything on automatic. The monitors went dead and the sound cut off. I half expected him to argue with me, but he didn't. He just leaned back in the chair and avoided my eyes.

"Gordon."

With the monitors off, his hands became his object of focus.

"Gordon!"

Finally he looked up. God, he looked tired.

"Why'd you wake up?"

He shrugged and resumed looking at his hands. "Couldn't sleep."

We were so _not_ going to pretend that nothing was going on. "Gordon..."

The hands slammed into his lap and he glared at me. "What? What do you want me to say? That I had a nightmare? Fine, I had a nightmare. You gonna make me some milk and cookies now, mom?"

"What was it about?" He was tired so I let the attitude go.

The anger faded, shame taking it's place. "I was alone on Five, doing repairs, a meteor hit and I went flying out into space."

I sighed, silently cursing my brothers, and dropped into the second chair. "Gords, that's not going to happen."

Back to the hands again. "You don't know that. It happened to that Elliott guy."

Who? "Who?"

He looked at me as though I was ridiculous for asking the question. "You know...that astronaut Alan and Scott rescued...the guy that was floating through space..."

Oh, I had a vague recollection of that. "Gordon, don't you think that if Alan and Scott rescued some random astronaut, they'd rescue you too?"

Apparently, I'd hit a nerve. "First of all, I don't want to have to be rescued. Second, how would anyone even know something happened? I could be dead up here and no one would know. We both could've been dead for hours now and no one would know!"

"That's true for anywhere. Anyone who lives on their own could be dead for hours before someone knows about it. And hate to tell you this bro, but most guys our age, if they're not married, are living in an apartment by themselves, not still living with their dad."

He rubbed a hand over his face. "Great, John. That makes me feel so much better."

"Look, if you were ever in a situation where you'd have to go out, you'd call base first and let us know. And believe me, we'd be monitoring the whole thing, any indication of trouble and Alan would be suited up in a second."

Challenge flashed in my brother's eyes. "Yeah? Well, Three's up here with _us_ right now. So how's Alan gonna come save us if something happens this week?"

Hmm...he had a point there. Uh...

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Out of sight, out of mind."

Now that struck a nerve in _me._ "So for six months out of the year, when I'm up here, you don't give two shits about me because I'm not on the island!"

He jumped back, startled. "No. God, John, no. Are you kidding? I _hate_ that you guys are up here. I'm freaked out, worrying, all the time about it. I _hate _it. I know that you and Alan like it up here though, like I liked being on the sub, so even though I hate it, I know you're different from me and as long as your happy, I'm fine with it. I just really hate that you're alone. I can deal with the whole space thing. It's the alone thing that I..."

His breathing was picking up again.

"Gordon, look, like you said, we're different people. I like the alone time. To be honest, I find it annoying when I'm at home and people are CONSTANTLY interrupting me or calling me or knocking on my door and everyone's always so loud and fooling around...up here, I control when I talk to people and when I have time to myself. I like it that way. And you're right, I am happy up here. This is home to me. I like the island too, don't get me wrong, but being in space...it's just where I belong."

"But wouldn't you like it better if you weren't by yourself all the time? If you and Alan did the shift together?"

The time I trained Alan was actually one of the best times I ever had. Alan and I rarely get to spend time together and our interests overlapped so much it was ridiculous. Every thing I loved about space, he loved too. Everything I showed him, he was totally into and then managed to point out or find things that I had never even thought of. Would I like it better if Alan was up here with me? Probably, but that was never going to happen.

"I don't think Alan would accept the little room and I'm older, so I refuse to be downgraded. We'd have an issue..."

Gordon rolled his eyes. "John...seriously. I don't see why anyone needs to be alone up here. It's dangerous enough as it is, you shouldn't be alone. What if you get sick?"

"Then I call Father and someone comes to pick me up."

He shook his head and went to say something, but I interrupted him.

"Look, yes, it could be more fun if there were two of us up here, but it's not necessary and I don't mind the alone time. Really, I don't. Besides, if Alan were up here with me, who would take our next shift? If we're up here together, we'd never be able to come down. Gords, I appreciate the concern but right now, you need to stop worrying about me up here and find a way for you to be okay with _yourself_ being up here."

With a grimace, he pushed himself forward in his seat. "Yeah, I'm not doing too well in that arena. It's kind of embarrassing actually."

I gave a silent laugh. "Does that mean I shouldn't call the others and ream them out for scaring you?"

He shot me a sideways glance. "You repeat this conversation to anyone and you'll be on the wrong end of an ass kicking."

I burst out laughing. He sent me a confused glare and I tried my best to stifle my laughter. Normally, that would've been a viable threat. I was a nerd, Gordon was an athlete, but right now? "Sorry Gords, it's just...you're running on no sleep, you're on my turf, and you're a nervous wreck; I'm not really quaking in my boots here."

His eyes squinted in threat. "You don't think I can take you?"

My first thought was to threaten him with any number of the space-related activities I knew would freak him out. Fortunately, I stopped myself before I said them out loud. The last thing I needed was Gordon having another nightmare because I introduced the threat of something he hadn't yet thought of. Unwilling to inadvertently scare him further, I dropped the banter. "You should try to get some sleep. I usually don't get up until 7:30, but if you want to sleep later than that even, it's fine. The training can go at anytime, what with time not existing up here."

He laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm up. Let's just move on to the training."

I gave him an assessing look. He looked like he was about to fall over, but I knew even if I pushed it, he probably wouldn't sleep. My best bet was to just tire him out today and let him sleep tonight. "Okay. Breakfast first though."

I walked into the kitchenette and pulled out some dehydrated fruit. "You want oatmeal with dried strawberries or raspberries?"

My brother slunk into the dining chair and shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

I froze. Not sleeping and not eating. This wasn't good. "Gordon you have to eat. I don't care if you're hungry. You didn't eat dinner last night, you're not sleeping, you have to have breakfast."

"I can't. I'm still really nauseous."

I turned to him. "Here's your choice: you either eat breakfast or go back to your room and sleep for a couple of hours. Pick one."

He shook his head again. "John, I-"

"I'm not budging on this. You're going to make yourself sick. Eat or sleep, which one?"

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I can't eat. I guess I'll try sleeping again."

I nodded and pointed towards the door. "Go. I won't wake you, whenever you get up is fine."

With a grunt, he pushed himself up from the table and walked out the door. I had started to turn around when he popped his head back in again. "Thanks, John."

I blinked and he was gone. Maybe I'd go with strawberries for breakfast...

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

An hour later, I had all the monitors back up and was getting ready for the next part of the training. I opted to go with reviewing the diagnostics. I usually didn't go into the settings and alarms until much later in the training, it tended to be very technical and dry, but I didn't want to go through the normal sequence with Gordon. According to our regular training, right about now is when I would have Gordon flying Five independently before bringing her back into her orbital position. Something told me that I should save that flight for a later date. I didn't need him worrying about the entire ship floating off into space.

I heard a hiss behind me and turned to see my brother walk into the room. "That wasn't long..."

He had his head down as he came and sat next to me. "I couldn't sleep."

Before I could say anything, he was looking at me earnestly. "I'm sorry. I tried, okay? I really did. I'm just too wired."

I nodded. What was I going to do? I couldn't force him to sleep. "Okay, well, let's get started on diagnostics."

He made a face indicating his displeasure at the impending boredom. Maybe I had been wrong in switching the training around...

"If you'd rather, you could try flying Five."

The look on his face was priceless. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're going to have to fly her as part of the training, so if you want to put the diagnostics training off, you can practice flying her first."

I don't think I'd ever seen Gordon's eyes that wide before. "Why...why...I don't...But she just orbits..."

If he hadn't been so serious, I would've been rolling on the floor laughing. "Gordon, you know she flies, you've done it in the simulator."

"But, but that's only in an emergency. You shouldn't take her out of orbit just for fun. What if I fly her out of the gravitational pull by mistake?"

"Then you'll fly her _back_ into the gravitational field-"

"What if I get too close to the atmosphere?"

Wow. I just realized why Scott wanted to pull his hair out when he was teaching Gordon how to pilot Thunderbird One. "Gords, it's no different than when you fly Three."

He scowled. "I hate flying Three."

"Well, then, you'll hate flying Five too. Come on. Put your hands on the flight levers and take her off automatic."

He paled, but followed my directions. The big ship groaned and I could hear Gordon's breaths next to me. Given my brother's phobia of floating into space, I opted to risk burning up instead. "Okay, we're at 22,300 miles from the Earth's surface now, so I want you to take her down to 200 miles and do a round over the poles."

His body remained stiff as his eyes flicked over to me. "You want me to fly around the Earth?"

I nodded. "You won't fly the whole way. At 200 miles out, you'll be entering the thermosphere, but you're still safely out of the stratosphere. Also, our orbiting time will be much faster. So once we're at 200 miles, we'll kick off an orbit and put her back on auto. The centrifical force will keep her from being pulled toward the Earth. Actually, it will be great for you to see the perspective of the Earth from over the poles. The atmosphere is different so you can look at the Earth without getting as distorted a view."

He looked at me as though I was speaking Greek. With a laugh I leaned forward to call base. "Base from Thunderbird Five."

Scott's head appeared. "Go ahead, John."

"We're initiating flight training. Five will be entering a LEO path at 200 miles above the surface. We'll be engaging in a polar orbit. Full orbit should take approximately 90 minutes at 17025 miles per hour."

"How fast?"

Scott laughed hearing our brother's exclamation. "He obviously wasn't paying attention when Alan went over that in the simulator."

I smiled in return. "Well, let's hope he's paying attention now."

"Yeah, otherwise you two will get to play skipping stone as you bounce off the atmosphere and into far space," Scott laughed.

Uh oh. Damage control. "Gordon will do fine. He's an excellent pilot and I'm right here too. We'll call in when we're at 200 miles out."

Scott looked mildly confused. "I know he's an excellent pilot. He'll probably come home and convince Brains to upgrade Four to work at those speeds."

Next to me Gordon snorted. "No thanks. Unlike you freaks, I respect the environment in which I travel. You may be fine with obliterating birds and space debris and whatever else, but I'd like to avoid killing all the fish before slamming head on into the side of a trench."

"Yes, well, that's why we'll be checking for a clear path before setting the orbit."

Scott laughed again. "Okay, well, good luck you guys. Give us a shout before you go back on auto."

"FAB." We responded in unison.

I turned to my brother. "Okay, take her down."

TBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Four and a half hours later, we were back in position, having completed the training flight. Gordon had done a phenomenal job. I actually didn't have to give him any direction, other than the orbiting height and speed. He handled the rest like he'd been doing this for years.

After re-checking all the settings, he flicked the switch, putting Five back on automatic. With a loud sigh, he reclined in the seat covering his face with his hands. "Well, that was certainly an adrenaline rush."

I smiled, stood, and clapped him on the shoulder. "You did an amazing job. Not that I would ever compare you to your brothers, but you demonstrated far superior piloting of Five than Scott or Virgil."

"Ha!" He started laughing. "Can I tell them?"

"Noo...You just keep that to yourself."

He smirked at me. "Yeah right, I'll bet you've said the same thing to each one of us."

I shook my head. "No. Well, Scott was first so there was no one to compare him to and then Alan _did_ do better than both of them. So I may have given the same compliment to Alan..."

The smile didn't leave his face as he looked up at me. "Are you serious? Did I really do better than Scott?"

I laughed again. "Yes, but you are not going to tell him. If Alan could keep his mouth shut, so can you. I don't need Scott all pissed at me; or Virgil for that matter."

"Well, Scott's the one who taught me how to pilot to begin with, so he should probably get some credit..." He winked at me. "But don't worry, I won't let him know how good an instructor he is."

He continued, ignoring my chuckle. "Actually, Alan spent hours with me in the simulator going over this; We should tell him, I think he'd be proud."

"Well, then..." I bent over and reached for the comm. button. "Thunderbird Five to Base."

Once again, Scott answered, not surprising since we had just gotten off with him. "Go ahead, John."

"Hi again Scott, is Alan around?"

"Uh, yeah, hang on."

A few moments later, Alan came into view. "Hi John. Scott said you wanted to see me?"

I moved back and turned to Gordon. "Well?"

Still all smiles, he leaned into the video view. He had his own video link, but for some reason, whenever he was talking to Base, he never used it. "Hey, Al."

Alan raised his brows. "Uh oh. Why do you look so happy?"

Gordon laughed. "Be quiet, I'm calling to compliment you."

"Oh! Okay then." Sitting down, my youngest brother folded his hands behind his head, waiting for his compliment. Behind him, Scott rolled his eyes.

"You remember when you took Five on the training flight?"

Alan nodded.

"You remember the compliment John gave you after?"

Alan smiled, knowingly.

"Well...I just got the same compliment."

Shooting forward in his seat, Alan's jaw dropped. "No way!"

Gordon's grin was practically blinding. "I'm serious! I told John I should call to give you credit since you spent so many hours in the simulator going over it with me."

"That's awesome, Gords!"

"You proud?"

I think just having Gordon ask him that was enough to make Alan beam. "I'm totally proud! You were great with the simulator too. I told you that."

With a shrug, Gordon downplayed the compliment. "Yeah, well, it's different in real life."

From the back, Scott interjected. "Well, I for one am very happy to hear you didn't run Five into the moon. Of course, you might have if John hadn't told you what speed to orbit at."

The smile faded from my face. Why the hell did he have to mention the one thing Gordon didn't know off hand?

"You didn't know the speeds? Gords, we covered that."

Gordon looked disappointed at Alan's comment and I was _pissed_. "Alan, he ran the entire flight independently. I kept my mouth shut the whole time. The only thing I gave him was the height and speed."

Alan's brow furrowed. "That's great. Why'd Scott-"

"Because he's jealous that Gordon did a better job piloting Five than he did." I know I had told Gordon to keep that quiet but screw it. Scott's head needed to be brought down to size.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Gordon's eyes grow wide, and Alan's matched them.

Scott gave me an offended look, walking towards the screen. "John-"

"He did a great job, Scott. Why're you trying to put him down?" I wasn't normally so upfront, but Gordon was really stressed, he was trying really hard, and he didn't need Scott giving him shit.

My eldest brother stopped his travel and looked confused. "I wasn't trying to put him down. I..." He paused, scrunching up his face. "Is that really how it came off?"

Three yeses answered him.

He looked over at Gordon. "Gosh, Gordon. I'm sorry. I-"

I cut him off. "And not two seconds before we called, he was telling me that you should get some of the credit too since you were the one who originally taught him how to fly."

Guilt covered Scott's face. Good, he should feel guilty. "That was the second time today you insulted him. Maybe you should pay more attention to how you talk to people." I snapped the comm. link off.

I was still simmering as Gordon turned his chair toward me. "Whoa, John. You were a little harsh on Scott there, don't you think?"

I shook my head. "He pissed me off. He hasn't said anything nice to you since you got here."

Gordon disagreed. "That's not true. He just said before that he knew I was an excellent pilot. And since when have you been so defensive of me? Not that I don't appreciate it, but normally it's you, Scott, and Virg versus me and Alan. When did you switch sides?"

"I don't have a side. I'm Switzerland."

With a laugh, Gordon responded, "No, Switzerland stays out of it. You switched sides. You're Italy."

I couldn't help it, I laughed. With a sigh, I looked at my brother. "I suppose I should call him back."

Gordon made a face. "Nah, let him stew a little. I mean, after all, he did insult me."

My stomach rumbled, reminding me that it was time for lunch. "You ready to eat yet?"

"Maybe... I feel a little better."

I was relieved to hear that, maybe he'd be able to sleep later too. We walked into the kitchen and I pulled out some lunch packets. I handed him one. "Add water and stir."

He stared back at me like I was crazy. "What is it?"

One of my favorite aspects of the training was watching my brothers' response to my next statement. "Eggs, sunny side up."

Gordon didn't disappoint. The look of disgust on his face was fantastic. "Seriously?"

I nodded. "Add the water. It looks a little off, especially when the egg powder doesn't mix all the way; then you end up with lumpy egg water. But it tastes the same."

He followed my directions and sure enough, he didn't mix well and ended up with the lumpy egg water. I ate mine as he sat at the table staring into his packet.

"Well? Go on. Eat it."

Slowly his eyes rose to meet mine. "It smells disgusting."

I responded with my mouth full. "It really doesn't taste that bad. It's just missing some ketchup." Actually, we had ketchup, but that was in the food pantry that Gordon didn't know about yet.

Making a face of revulsion, he hesitantly dipped a spoon into the packet and pulled out a spoonful of yellow, gloppy, water. Then, quickly, he closed his eyes, shoved the food in his mouth, and swallowed.

I smiled. "See? It really doesn't taste that bad."

Just as I said it, I watched his face turn green. He dropped the spoon and packet on the table. His nostrils flaring as he breathed hard through his nose.

I waited, pausing in my own meal to see where this was going. Sure enough, after a couple of seconds, he made a close-mouthed gagging sound and clamped a hand over his mouth. His torso spasmed again and I saw liquid seeping through the fingers that covered his lips. Shit.

Standing, I quickly got a plastic bag out of a cabinet and handed it over. He took it with his left hand, doubled over completely, and replaced his right hand with the bag. Then the full bodied retching sounds reached my ears.

I felt really bad. I don't know why I didn't think of this when I opted to serve him the most disgusting food we had on board. It was funny with my other brothers, but Gordon had been nauseous since he got here. I should've taken that into consideration before I went along with my typical training schedule. And I had had the nerve to yell at Scott.

Gordon groaned. He was still doubled over, but seemed to have a reprieve from the vomiting- probably because there was nothing in him to expel.

I walked over and put a hand on his back. I still felt pretty guilty. "Gords?"

Slowly, he straightened up. His hand trembled as he brought the bag down from his mouth. The scent of vomit and eggs wafted up at me. Scrunching my nose, I ignored the smell and knelt down so I was at his eye level.

He swallowed carefully and looked at me. "I think I'm gonna pass on the rest of the eggs."

At least he still had his sense of humor. "How about some ginger ale?"

He nodded. As I stood up to go to the pantry, he spoke again. "I'm gonna throw this out and wash my hands in the bathroom."

"Ok."

Two minutes later he returned to a can of ginger ale waiting for him. He picked it up with a perplexed look. "Where'd you get a can of ginger ale from?"

I knew I'd have to tell him about the real food. I mean, I was going to have to eventually anyway, so whether I told him now or later, he was going to realize that I forced him to eat powdered eggs for no reason. Besides, if I wanted Gordon to eat dinner, which I did, I was going to have to break out the real food.

"I got it out of the food pantry."

His forehead wrinkled, indicating he had no idea what I was talking about.

"Come on, I'll show you."

I walked over to the large silver door, opened it, and flipped on the light. Hesitantly, my brother peaked his head in, looking at the shelves lined with various cans and boxes. He gave me another quick look before reaching into the room and picking up a bottle of mustard. "How'd you guys get all this stuff here?"

"Same way you got here. We load it up in Three. Alan and I make a list and call it in before we're relieved."

As I spoke, Gordon returned the mustard and bent himself around the door frame to look further into the room.

"You can actually step into the room you know."

Straightening himself, he looked at me. "I don't wanna get locked in."

"Gordon, you really think I would do that to you? I told you I wouldn't prank you."

The look he gave me let me know loud and clear that he realized what I had been thinking feeding him the egg packets. I winced. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "It's alright. It was no big deal."

I hated it when he was so forgiving.

"It's not okay. I broke a promise and now you're even more stressed."

"I'm not more stressed."

I rolled my eyes. "Gords, you're afraid to go in the food pantry because you think I'm going to lock you in."

He swallowed hard. "Yeah. I am."

Twisting of the knife in my gut. The fact that he wasn't mad at me about it made it even worse.

"Gordon, I really am sorry. I wasn't even thinking of it as a prank. With the other guys, I didn't tell them about the food pantry until day 5. I got a kick out of watching all of you contemplating a month of powdered food. I realize now that doing that's a form of pranking, but I hadn't thought-"

He brought a hand up to stop me. "John, it's okay. I'm not mad at you. It's fine. I've done pranks that have been ill-timed or went bad. Don't feel bad about it; it was probably just karma using you to get back at me."

"I hate you. You have to forgive me? Can't you just punch me or something? I'd feel so much better."

He grinned. "No, I can't punch you. And yes, I have to forgive you. First of all, if I didn't, I run the risk of being here alone and...well, I'm really trying not to think about that. Second, I have never punched a family member in anger and I don't plan to start now. And third, despite what you think, I still overpower you by a ridiculous amount and it just wouldn't look good for me. It'd be like hitting a girl."

I stared for a moment before a laugh escaped me. "The next time we're both at home, you and I are going to meet in the training room for a little sparring."

He clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, I realize you feel bad about pranking me, but suicide isn't the answer, bro."

I laughed again and shrugged his hand off. "Alright, tough guy. Go relax for a few and drink your ginger ale. I'm going to do a check-in on the situation in Madagascar."

"You think we'll be needed?"

"Probably not, the locals have evacuated most of the areas affected by the volcano. There are a few people who refuse to budge, but I've already let dad know about it. There's really nothing we can do for them, they're not going to move because we say so either. You and I just have to monitor if the eruption effects spread further than expected."

"What about the wildlife?"

I raised my brows. "Really? You want to have that discussion with dad again? We only save humans."

My brother looked disappointed, but didn't respond. It let me know that the lack of sleep and food was probably getting to him. Taking him by the arm, I pushed him down into the chair. "Sit. Drink. Relax."

I got a nod of response as he opened the ginger ale. With my brother situated for the moment, I moved back to the control room.

* * *

_As always, reviews are cherished and very, very welcome. Please let me know your thoughts._


	3. Tuesday

_This is a LONG one. Hopefully you don't mind. After this I think I'm going to break the days up so that more than one chapter covers a day. Otherwise there's just too much..._

_Thank you all so much for continuing to read this story. I hope that it's been entertaining so far and that it continues to do so. Special thanks go out to everyone who reviewed and specifically Whirlgirl and Overkalix who I can't reply to. Your reviews lift my spirits!_

_

* * *

_**Chapter 3: Tuesday-**_  
_

Opening my eyes, I rolled over to look at the clock: 7:30 am.- much better than yesterday. Yawning, I stretched and sought out my uniform. Gordon had turned in early again last night; I stayed up a little later this time, but not much. Getting up at 5:30 had worn me out. I had spent most of yesterday afternoon showing my brother which airwaves to monitor at which times and how to contact the various local agencies if he needed more information. He was attentive throughout, but I could also see how tired he was. Hopefully, Gordon had gotten a good night's sleep this time. He was still nauseous at dinner, so he hadn't really eaten anything since he'd arrived. He did manage to drink three cans of ginger ale though, so at least he had some sugar in his system.

Stepping into the control room, my heart sank. All the monitors were on- that meant my brother was awake. Sure enough, as I got closer, I could see his hair peeking up over the back of the chair. I spoke to the few hairs I could see. "How long have you been up?"

"Only an hour."

I let out a relieved breath. That would mean 7 hours sleep, not great, but not bad either. His chair swiveled to face me and I sucked the breath back in. His eyes were completely bloodshot and the bags beneath them were so dark he looked like he was wearing makeup.

"I didn't sleep though."

Disappointed and concerned, I dropped into the other chair. "At all?"

He shook his head. "I just laid there staring at the ceiling." He paused and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I'm so tired, John. And my head is killing me."

I put my hand on his forehead just to check. He was cool. "Lack of sleep and food will do that."

He dropped his hands and the bags looked even worse- if that was possible. "Yeah, well, I feel even more nauseous now than I did yesterday. This sucks."

"You think you're getting sick?"

"No." He was studying his hands. "I think I'm a loser."

Well, I hadn't expected that. "How's that?"

He slammed his hands into his lap with a sigh and turned back to me. "I told myself yesterday, 'Gordon, you're freaking out for no reason. Just stop thinking about the fact that your 22,000 miles above the Earth and that in a few days you'll be alone here. Just pretend you're visiting John at college again.' And I made it through most of the day, you know? I mean, other than the random puking episode, I thought I did pretty good."

I nodded. He _had_ seemed a lot calmer yesterday than the day before.

"But the second I was by myself, it was like I couldn't stop. I just kept going back to the fact that I would be floating up here completely alone. I feel like I've been sentenced to a month in jail. There's no way out of here." Tears entered his eyes. "What crime am I being punished for? I really don't want to be here. I mean, I really, really, really don't want to be here. It got to the point around 5 this morning that I started seriously thinking about calling it quits and just going home. And you know I have _never_ quit anything in my life. That's not me. I don't _want_ that to be me. I'm proud that I'm thought of as determined and persevering. I'm Gordon, the one who has all the strength and courage to get through anything. That's my main character trait. It's the reason you guys respect me. But I..."

He started gasping and his hands were trembling uncontrollably. I leaned forward and grabbed his shoulders to ground him. "Gordon, you're having a panic attack. Slow down. Breathe. Look at me."

Teary, bloodshot eyes met mine and I could see the pulse in his neck pounding. "I don't want to be the only one who can't do this." The tears fell.

I felt so bad. This was so ludicrous. Here he was, _the_ best aquanaut in the world, the man who clawed his way back from the dead, sobbing because he wasn't an astronaut. Why the hell did he have to be an astronaut anyway? It wasn't good enough that he was the best aquanaut? He had an Olympic gold medal and he felt like a loser because he didn't want to be floating alone in space. This whole situation was just absurd.

"Gords, I watched you fight your way back from death; you'd have to do a lot more than freak out in space to loose my respect. I see how difficult this is for you and just as I'd expect, I'm seeing you fight your way through it with everything you've got. So, I don't see you acting any differently than how you're known to act. But keep this in mind, nobody is great at everything. If this is something you can't do, that's okay- and I don't think any less of you for it."

"Everyone else will."

I was about to argue when he cut me off, wiping the tears from his eyes. "No, John, I know they will. First, Father made it very clear to me when he sent me here that if I wanted to be in IR, I would have to do a tour on Five, otherwise I could go find myself a new career. And second, Scott, Alan, and Virgil have all done this and technically Scott and Virgil aren't astronauts either. If I go home now, I know they'll all think I'm either lazy, selfish, or a wuss."

I let go. "Well then maybe we should send them down to the sea floor in a bathyscaphe and have them spend a month there. Then they can talk."

My brother leaned back in his chair, disagreeing. "They're not trained for that; it wouldn't be the same. I mean, not even just the training, but you need to be in top physical and mental condition for that. At WASP they do at least a month of physical and mental tests to see if your body can handle that level of stress. It would be so dangerous to let somebody go if they couldn't handle it. They wouldn't survive the first 24 hours."

Ironic. "Would you think less of them?"

He looked at me confused. "Huh?"

"Let's say I failed the mental test to handle being under the sea that long, 'cause I more than likely would. Would you respect me less?"

His expression indicated he thought I was crazy for even asking. "You're an astronaut, John. I wouldn't expect you to be mentally or actually, and no offense, physically prepared to do a month in a bathyscaphe at 7 miles below sea level."

"But I'm good at being an astronaut. Doesn't that make me automatically good at being an aquanaut?"

"Noo... As an aquanaut you're body has to be able to come into equilibrium with the ambient pressure on the sea floor. The physical and mental requirements are extremely high. I mean being on the sea floor literally changes the composition of your blood. I'm sure there are major requirements for being an astronaut too, like handling the G-force and zero gravity, but it's not the same."

My point exactly. I stared at him and it took him a minute, but he got it. He rolled his eyes at me. "Well, that's great that you think that way, but clearly dad doesn't."

What pissed me off the most about my father sending Gordon up here, was that my father had _been _an astronaut. The physical and mental tests Gordon had just been described, they did that in NASA too, for the exact same reasons. Because it would be extremely dangerous to send someone into space if their body and mind couldn't handle the stress. Where the hell did my father get off just skipping those tests? He probably just assumed that because Gordon passed the WASP tests, he'd pass the NASA tests too. But as Gordon had pointed out, the requirements for aquanaut and astronaut were different.

"Gords, maybe dad just didn't realize how hard this is for you."

His eyes flashed at me. "It doesn't matter, John. Even if he knew and even if he cared, I'd still be the loser who couldn't hack a month on Five. Even if he said, 'sure son, come on home,' I'd be a failure. The pathetic weakling who freaked out in space."

I didn't have a response. I hated that he felt that way, but there was some truth to what he was saying. Maybe not as harshly as he was predicting; I doubt he'd be looked at as a complete failure, but there would be ramifications..."

Finally, I found something useful to say. "I think the insomnia is probably causing the biggest problem right now. You've been up for 48 hours, a half hour of sleep in the middle doesn't count. Why don't you go now and try sleeping in my bed? It's a lot more comfortable than the foam mattress."

He closed his eyes and relaxed into the chair. "It's been more like 60 hours and it's not the mattress that's a problem. It's my mind."

I forgot that he hadn't slept well the night before coming here either. I hesitated before suggesting the next step, but the important thing right now was getting Gordon some shut eye. "We have pills on board..."

One eye peeked out at me. "Sleeping pills?"

I nodded.

Rubbing his eyes, he shook his head. "No thanks. I'd rather not go down that road. I can't sleep up here, so I can pretty much guarantee you I'll become dependent." He looked at me. "The last thing I need is to be 22000 miles up in space, alone, and high."

I laughed. Yeah, he definitely didn't need that. "Alright, well I'm going to get some breakfast. You want anything?"

"No. I'll continue the monitoring. What are we going over today?"

I made a face. "Well, typically day 3 is the day we go out." Instantly, his whole body tensed forward. I continued before the next attack set in. "But as the lead astronaut, I have made an executive decision to put that off indefinitely. We're taking it easy today. As low stress as possible." He let out a breath and the tension went with it. "So, I'm afraid today will be incredibly boring. We're reviewing diagnostics."

My brother flopped back in his seat. "God bless you."

I laughed. "Tonight though I want you to sleep in my bed. Okay?"

I got a nod of a response and, satisfied, I left for the kitchenette.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Hour four into the diagnostics and I was beginning to bore myself. Gordon had appeared attentive, but my periodic questions discovered that he was not taking much in. Half the time, his eyes were wide and unblinking. I had asked him at one point what he was thinking about but he just stared at me confused. He also thought we were still talking about a topic that had ended ten minutes before. I came to the conclusion that he was sleeping with his eyes open. Still, I moved forward with the lessons. I planned to quiz him at the end so I'd know if we'd be doing this all over again tomorrow.

"Okay, so if this light starts blinking, it means there's a blockage somewhere in the air ducts. The first thing you need to do is determine where the blockage is."

I looked over to find my brother's eyelids at half-mast, his head nodding toward his chest. I sighed and poked him. Immediately, his head snapped up and he blinked.

"Gords, go lay down in my room."

His eyes sank shut. "No, I'm up."

Clearly. I snorted. "Yeah, I can see that. Your eyes are closed."

A confused expression appeared and I could see him struggling to open his eyes. Finally, with the help of his hands, they opened. "Sorry. I'm just really tired."

"Exactly why you should be laying in a bed." I stood up and pulled up on his arm- it was like dead weight.

"No, no, I'm listening." He rubbed his eyes again and appeared somewhat more awake.

Exasperated, I dropped back into the chair. "This is ridiculous. We're going to have to do this all over again anyway, you might as well just sleep."

"No, really, keep going. I heard you, something about an air duct."

Oye. I pointed to the light. "What's it mean if this's blinking?"

He took a deep breath and stared at it. After about two seconds, his eyelids and head began to droop. He blinked and pulled them back up.

I rolled my eyes. "Well?"

"What?" The lids were sinking again.

I shook my head and went with a new plan. Ignore him and let him sleep in the chair.

Watching him reminded me of when he was little. He used to do the same thing then. Having three older brothers, he was often upset that he was 'missing out on stuff' because he had to go to bed earlier than we did. I don't know what he thought he was missing. But eventually, my mother gave up the fight to put him to bed at 8. So, he was allowed to stay up and watch TV with the rest of us. Usually, by 8:15, much to our amusement, he'd be half-asleep and fighting to stay awake. His head would sink down, he'd pull it back up, quickly look around to see if he got caught, and then his head would droop again. We'd pretend to ignore him, but really we'd be cracking up. Our mother would send us warning glares while trying to contain her own laughter. Gordon, of course, was oblivious.

Five minutes of me not even talking and he was still fighting it. Unbelieveable. It must have been ingrained in his DNA or something not to fall asleep unless intending to do so. Given how tired he was though, one would think he'd _want_ to sleep. Part of the issue was that whenever his head would sink, it'd pull his body to the right and he'd startle himself awake trying not to fall out of the chair. Hmm...

Standing, I moved in back of his chair and pulled the recline lever. The chair back dropped suddenly and my brother's eyes flew open. I was hoping that his mind was still half in dreamland. "Go back to sleep."

Sure enough, his brain accepted my words without seeming to notice his environment. This time when his eyes shut and his head fell to the side, the chair supported him. I sat back down and waited a few more minutes to see if he was still fighting. The lack of movement and even breathing was a welcome relief. He was asleep. Thank God.

Sitting back in my own chair, I realized I had a problem. I was definitely going to have to review the diagnostics again and hopefully, Gordon would sleep straight through the afternoon into tomorrow, which would mean we'd be at least a day behind. There was also the issue of the reparation training... I _really_ didn't feel comfortable forcing Gordon to suit up and go outside, if he'd even do it. It was a very necessary part of the training though.

I shook my head and looked out over the Earth. With the way things were going, I realized that I was extremely hesitant to leave him alone up here. I mean, he wasn't sleeping or eating...at all. Until he was in a regular sleep cycle and had at least two days of keeping food down, I couldn't just take off in Three and leave him alone up here. Shit.

I bent over and rubbed my hands through my hair. This was so stupid. There was absolutely no reason he had to be up here. Like my brother had said, there were 5 team members that could handle Five and only _Gordon_ could orchestrate a deep sea rescue. It was complete idiocy that our one aquanaut would be sent into space.

Okay enough, stupid though it may be, that's the way it was. I couldn't undo my father sending him up. I needed to figure out what to do about it right now. I was trying to ignore it, but every instinct in my body was telling me to take him home. I couldn't even _send_ him home at this point because he was so tired, he'd probably crash Three. How could I take him home though? What he had said before was true, there'd be repercussions to him coming home, unable to complete the training. And I didn't want to give up on him...

He'd hate me if I took him home. I'd be forcing him into being a failure and showing a lack of faith in him. Okay, so going home wasn't an option. Maybe I could convince my father to let me complete the month up here with him. Gordon had said that his main fear was being alone; maybe he'd be able to sleep if he knew I was going to stay up here with him. And this way, he wouldn't be failing per se... Yeah, okay, he would be. But, if he did _one_ week on his own instead of the three weeks, that'd probably count as a success.

What would I say to my father though? 'Hey dad, listen, Gordon needs some extra training so I'm going to need to spend two more weeks here with him.' Riiiight...

A moan took me out of my thoughts and brought my attention back to my brother. Just as I looked at him, he gasped and squirmed in the seat. His hands were gripped on the arm rests, his knuckles white. Beads of sweat covered his skin and his eyes were flicking back and forth under the lids. My stomach dropped. He was having a nightmare.

He so didn't deserve this. I didn't know what to do. Wake him up? But then he wouldn't go back to sleep for a long time and his body needed to sleep. Still, how restful could this sleep be? Was it better to sleep through a nightmare or to just be awake? I had no idea. I wished Brains were with me, he'd know.

"No, that's not..."

I leaned my chin on the heel of my hand, my elbow on my knee. This was like torture, like I was being punished by having to watch my brother suffer. Shit. I didn't know if I should wake him up!

Okay, think. I took a deep breath and calmed my thoughts. Maybe I could try talking to him in his sleep and talking him out of the nightmare.

I leaned toward him and whispered. "Gordon, you're okay."

Wow. That was awkward. Having a one-way, whispered conversation with your sleeping brother is not easy. Not only that, but my words had made no impact. He was still squirming, his face scrunched in pain.

Deep breath, try again. This time I lightly touched his arm.

His eyes flew open and I jumped back. Gordon sat straight up in his seat, terror etched all over his face.

For a moment, everything was still. My brother was totally frozen, the only thing moving was his chest from the rapid breathing. Then, he completely crumpled. Folded in on himself and covered his head with his arms and hands.

I put my hand over my mouth, feeling sick to my stomach. Looking over at the clock, I did some math. Not counting his fighting to stay awake, he had been asleep for 15 minutes.

With a long exhale, I got off my chair and crouched in front of him. As I'd mentioned, I'm not one for physical affection, but Gordon was and I was willing to do anything at this point to help him. I put my arms around him as best I could. Somehow, in about a second, he managed to unravel himself and tangle his arms through mine so that I was engulfed in a full hug. His head was buried in my shoulder.

I didn't know what to say.

"I'm so tired, John."

My heart broke. I hugged him tighter. "I know."

He pulled back and wiped his red eyes with his sleeves. "Sorry I fell asleep."

Seriously? He was apologizing for that? "I'm sorry you couldn't sleep longer."

He shuddered. "I'm not." His voice was thick with saliva.

I moved back to my chair. "What was this one about?"

And back to studying the hands. "What do you mean?"

"The nightmare Gordon, I watched you have a nightmare. What was it about?"

"Did you wake me up?" He was evading the question...

I allowed it for a moment. "I tried not to. I was trying to talk you into a more pleasant dream."

He snorted and my face reddened with embarrassment. The moment had been awkward enough, with him knowing about it, it was even worse. He must have taken pity on me, because he opened up about the nightmare without me having to prod.

"It was weird. There was this couple in Kansas and they had this 25 year old kid who was born on the same day, in the same hospital as me. And they were on TV at first saying that me and this kid had gotten switched at birth. And they both had my color hair and eyes and the other kid looked exactly like Scott and Virg. And it turned out that they were both professional scuba divers and owned the only scuba tour in Kansas." He paused to acknowledge the insanity of that last part. "I know..." Then he continued. "And the kid was a famous rocket scientist who had graduated college early and was leading an expedition on the moon or something."

I went to say something reassuring, but he wasn't finished. "The worst part was, everyone was all, 'oh that's not true, Gords, you're mom and dad's.' But then the kid came to visit and everyone was at dinner talking about space stuff and I didn't understand what anyone was talking about and I just kept thinking that this other kid fit so much better than I did. I felt like shit. I went for a walk on the island and it was like somehow I knew that the other kid's family really loved him and they didn't want me, they just wanted him to know what his real family was like. I was just left over. Then Alan came to tell me something about what he and Jim...yeah, that was the kid's name...I think. Anyway, he came to tell me that Jim was taking him scuba diving on the reef and he knew of a secret way to get to outer space from there and I was scared to go, but if I didn't, Alan would just replace me with Jim, and then I woke up."

Wow. I didn't have to be a shrink to analyze that one. Apparently, neither did Gordon. He rolled his eyes at himself. "Yeah, I get the symbolism..."

I smiled, still unsure of what to say. I had to say something though. "You're not the only one who feels like they don't always fit."

He looked up at me, clearly interested. "You?"

I nodded and he was already shaking his head. "Do you really feel like you don't fit in the family or is it just that you're physically separated so you miss day to day things and then feel out of the loop?"

Talk about taking the wind out of my sails... "It's actually both."

He stared at me, waiting for me to continue. "Even before I was up here, or in NASA, or at college, I always felt different. It was kind of like you said before, you and Alan are really close and Scott and Virg are best friends. I always felt like odd man out."

"I can see that kind of. It's changed a lot though, especially since IR started. I don't know if my accident had anything to do with it. I mean, it must have affected my personality...I mean, I know it did. The dynamics between us all are different now than they were."

He seemed to pause at that. "But anyway, my point is that I have little interest in planes, flight, or space, and well, there's pretty much nothing else discussed at home. Not unless Lady P. is there..."

I went to respond, but was cut off. "I don't think I told you this, but there was this one week about a year and a half ago that I discovered Tin Tin had a love of the sea...or at least could tolerate my own jabbering about it. So it was a really great week, I spent all this time finally just talking to someone on the island about something I was interested in. Then Alan FLIPPED OUT on me. I mean, he went ballistic. Apparently, he'd been giving me all these evil stares throughout the week that I was supposed to pick up on and know that meant to stop spending all that one-on-one time with Tin Tin."

"Did he actually tell you that?" It was obvious that Tin Tin was in love with Alan and Alan was interested as well. But he didn't seem to know how to proceed from there and if one of us ever brought it up, he'd take our heads off.

Gordon smirked. "More or less, after a lot of incoherent rambling. I had been thinking at the time, 'if your so jealous, why don't you ask the girl out?' I didn't say it though. I was just trying to survive the onslaught."

I laughed.

"It's not like I was interested in her, not in that way. I know she's in love with Alan and I don't think of her like that. It was just nice to have someone to talk to where they're actually interested in what I'm saying, not just feigning interest and sending looks to other people, mocking me while I'm talking."

Yeah, we did that. I honestly thought he was oblivious to them. It never seemed to stop him. But I could see now how frustrating it could be having to listen to us all day talking about planes and space and then being 'put up with' when trying to talk about his own interests.

"You know, and I'll speak for everyone here, we never realized that we're just as obsessed with space and flight as you are with the ocean."

That made Gordon laugh. "I don't mind listening to it. Unlike you, I _have_ realized that we're all equally obsessed. My guess is, the obsession gene is genetic...uh, and contagious 'cause Brains has it too. The issue for me is, somewhere along the way, I became obsessed with the wrong topic."

"Maybe _we're_ all obsessed with the wrong topic."

"No, you have the same obsession as dad."

"That makes it right? And anyway, dad's catered to your obsession, he built you Four didn't he?"

"John," He gave me a patronizing look. "Four was the last to be built. It's only Four because it's in Pod 4. AND, in case you weren't counting, that means three other Pods worth of stuff were deemed more important and thought of before my vehicle."

I rolled my eyes. "First of all, FIVE was the last to be built-"

"Only because it took longer to build it. It was started before Four."

I ignored him. "Second of all, Four is in Pod 4 because putting it Pod 1 would be confusing. I mean come on, 'Virg, take Two with Pod 1 and Four'? The numbers being the same makes it easier, that's the real explanation for that. And third of all, your vehicle is Four because it's yours and you are number four in birth order."

"John, your ship is Five."

"Well, maybe Five was originally built for Alan and Three was originally built for me. Did you ever think of that?"

He sat back, surprised. "Really?"

I shrugged. "I actually have no idea. You stumped me with that comment. But it sounded good, right?"

He laughed and some light came back into his eyes. "I'm sorry, John. I don't mean to be so down. I'm not really walking around the island thinking nobody's listening to me. I'm just in a bad mood. I must suck to be around right now. First I fall asleep on you, then I'm whining about a nightmare, and then I'm complaining and feeling sorry for myself." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I'll get it together."

"Don't worry about it. I'm actually glad you're talking to me. I'm worried about you and I can't figure out any other way to help you other than to listen."

He smiled. "Don't worry about me, okay? I'll pull it together. But, um...thanks. I know I've been a mess, but knowing you've got my back...it's...you know."

I did know. I just wished I could help him more. Standing up, I stretched and changed the subject. "Well, here's the thing, I'm guessing you missed about half the diagnostics review. So, even if you can concentrate through the afternoon, we're still a half day behind."

He shook his head. "No, I think I got most of it."

My brows went up. "Okay, so if all the white lights all go out and the red lights remain on, what does that mean and what do you do?"

I could almost _see_ his brain working. "Uh..." His face scrunched in thought. "I know this. I heard you say it."

The fact that I had also walked around pointing at things and demonstrating the procedure had apparently been lost.

"If the lights go out, it means there's a failure in the main power cell."

Well, at least he got that. "Good. What do you do?"

He bit his lip and looked at me questioningly. "Call base and ask you what to do?"

I snorted. "That was a good try. Only problem with your plan is that if the main power cell goes out, so do all the comm. links."

His eyes went as wide as they could go. Wow, they were really red. "You're telling me I could get stuck up here with no power and no way to contact anyone?"

I was caught off-guard by his panic. I mean, I had already gone through this and he didn't freak the first time. Of course, he was probably asleep with his eyes open the first time...

"John, I can't do this."

Full blown attack. He was gasping and his eyes were tearing.

"Gordon, calm down." I crouched in front of him. "Relax. It's just a worst case scenario. It's never actually happened." Actually, it had happened once, but I was hoping he didn't know about that. "And anyway, the communication system can be reset."

Closing his eyes, my brother tried to slow his breathing.

"Good, slow down. You can do this."

He was shaking his head as he opened his eyes. "John," His voice broke. "Please don't leave me here."

He didn't need to worry about that. "Gordon, listen to me." Panicked, wide eyes met mine. "I _promise _you that I will not leave you here unless I know, without a doubt, that you will be fine."

Breathing hard, he questioned me. "Do you think I'll be fine?"

"No." The word came out before I could even think about it. I immediately felt bad, I mean, my brother needed a pep talk, not me doubting him. However, the relief that appeared in his eyes at my 'no' was unmistakable.

He took a deep breath and visibly relaxed. "I'm beginning to care less and less about what everybody else thinks of me. I'm going back and forth. One minute, I'm determined to see this out, what doesn't kill me makes me stronger and all that, and then the next, I don't care, I just want to go home."

I understood. "If you ever make that decision, I'll take you home. Just tell me."

"I won't be able to look at myself in the mirror if I do that."

I guessed that continually talking about this wasn't helping him. I decided to try for a distraction. "Look, let's go back to the diagnostics and see what we can get through. Try to stop thinking about the fact that you're up here."

He nodded, on board with the idea. Keeping my fingers crossed, I started re-explaining the power failure procedures.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTB

We made it through the rest of the afternoon and my dinner without major incident. Once again, Gordon stuck to the ginger ale. I still wasn't sure how much he absorbed from my briefing; he wasn't able to concentrate through the afternoon any more than he had in the morning. And his irritability had increased over the course of the day. At the very least though, I was pretty sure he'd sleep like a baby tonight...provided he didn't have any more nightmares.

"So, it's 8 pm., which means we set the main frequency to LSB at 6 MHz."

I smiled as my brother followed his own directions; he may not have gotten the diagnostics, but he had learned all the times and frequencies I went over with him yesterday.

Suddenly, my father's portrait started blinking. "Thunderbird Five from Base..."

I flicked the switch that made my father's face appear. "Hello, Father."

The face on the video smiled back at me. "Hello, John. How are you boys doing?"

Well, that was the million dollar question, wasn't it? I had no idea how to answer, so I took a play out of my brother's book: evasion. "Gordon's right here, he was just resetting the frequencies for the evening watch."

My brother pushed his head in front of mine and waved at the screen. Grimacing, I spit his hair out of my mouth. It wasn't like the chairs could move back, they were bolted to the floor. Finally, I pushed him away from me. He looked back with a laugh and slid back into his seat. For the first time ever, he opened his own comm. link.

Virgil's voice floated in through the view screen. "Well, what do you know about that? It does work. Scott, you owe me 100 bucks."

My father squinted in confusion and the voice explained. "We've never seen Gordon's portrait in use so Scott assumed it was broken. I just figured it was Gordon's way of rebelling or something. I win."

Next to me, Gordon laughed. "I just never had a reason to call Base."

Alan's voice called out in disagreement. "No, you've called Base before, but it's always through someone else's portrait."

"Well, that's because one of you always calls before I do...and I've always been with someone else."

My smile faded at that last part. Based on my father's lack of reaction, it went right over his head.

Just as I thought it, my father's expression morphed to confusion. "Son, I think there may be a problem with your portrait after all."

My brother answered warily. "Yeah?"

"Your eyes look very dark."

Gordon sat back. "I've been a little jet lagged up here actually."

That was one way to put it...

"Gordon, you can't be jet lagged if you haven't changed time zones..." That was Alan again. I noticed that Scott was being awfully quiet... I doubted that he wasn't in the room.

Finally, I spoke up. "Father, I'd like more time for training with Gordon."

Out of the corner of my eye, I tried to gauge my brother's reaction. I expected a glare, but what I got was a look of apprehension. He was awaiting our father's answer. The answer really didn't matter to me, I was staying past Sunday regardless.

After giving both of us an appraising look, my Father nodded. "If you feel that's necessary, John."

I felt my face burn in anger. To be honest, I was still furious with him for forgoing any of the tests NASA would have done and forcing Gordon to come up here against his will. Now he was putting me in a position where I had to imply that my brother was either incompetent or goofing off.

"I do, Father. And you should know that it's not due to a lack of skill or effort on Gordon's part."

The confusion that met me begged an explanation. Too bad I didn't have one ready. I didn't want to spill Gordon's issues to the family, I didn't want to lie, and I had to explain myself. See, this was exactly why I never tried to be misleading.

Luckily for me, Gordon had years of experience being sneaky. "What can I say, dad? I'm used to literally tons of atmospheric pressure, I have more of an adjustment to make than most..."

In reality, that explanation made little sense, the atmosphere on Five matched Earth's at sea level. My father seemed to accept it anyway though. He smiled and nodded. "Alright, but I was hoping to upgrade Two next week and it's a four person job, so as soon as you can get home John..."

As soon as I could get home? He was telling me to hurry it up? How about, 'do whatever you need to make sure Gordon is well trained and settled.' It wasn't like I was teaching my brother to fly a kite here. I was teaching him how to be an astronaut and handle a multi-billion dollar piece of equipment 22000 miles above the Earth. He wanted me to train as fast as possible. That was so not going to happen, screw Two.

"I could help, Mr. Tracy."

With a look of appreciation, my father turned to his right. "Thank you, Tin Tin. Your assistance is very welcome."

Addressing us once again, my father moved to end the call. "Okay boys. Have a good night and keep us abreast of any activity."

"FAB, Father." In unison we switched off the comm. links.

I was seething.

"You alright? You're breathing kind of hard."

I turned to my brother. "I am really pissed at him. I mean, really just...furious."

Gordon shrugged.

"You're not annoyed? You tell him you need more time to adjust and his response is 'hurry up so we can update Two'."

My brother just leaned back and shut his eyes. "I am way too tired to be angry. My head's pounding, I can't see straight, I'm fighting the urge to throw up...dad being dad is the least of my issues at the moment."

"Take some ibuprofen and go to bed."

He opened an eye. "You still want me to sleep in your room? I'm so drained at this point, I doubt it'll matter where I am. If the little room's going to bother you-"

"You not sleeping is going to bother me. You're taking the real bed. I'm hoping to wake up tomorrow and not see your ugly mug until the day after."

That earned me a laugh. "I'd love that."

"Go."

Blinking his eyes back open, he stood up and stumbled toward my room. "Goodnight, John."

"Sleep well, Gords."

TBTBTBTBTBTBTB

11 pm. and it was time for me to turn in as well. Sleeping in the little room...wow. I hadn't done that since Brains had come up here two years ago. I was _not_ looking forward to that foam mattress. As long as Gordon was sleeping though, I didn't care. All the worrying I was doing was starting to eat a hole through my stomach.

On my way off to bed, I decided to stop by my old room to listen in and hopefully hear some snoring. When I put my ear to the door though, the noise that greeted me was not what I had hoped. The sounds of sobbing reverberated through the hollow metal door, loud and clear. I shut my eyes in despair. This couldn't continue. It just couldn't. He'd been awake for over 72 hours by this point. Yes, there was an interrupted 45 minutes in between, along with some open-eyed slumber, but there was no way his body could withstand this. I knew from my medical training that 60 hours of sleep deprivation led to symptoms of psychosis and possibly permanent changes in brain chemistry. Gordon was the strongest person I knew, but everyone had a breaking point. He was on full speed towards his.

As I stood outside the door, the cries died down until I could no longer hear anything. I stayed there for the next few minutes, straining to hear something. Thankfully, it was quiet. I wondered if he had cried himself to sleep. He had been half-asleep the whole day; I had no doubt that he'd fall asleep tonight. I just hoped that he'd get a straight shot of sleep, not a series of intermittent nightmares.

With concern eating me alive, I said a prayer, and headed off to the little room.

* * *

_I know, there was a lot of talking in that one. There's a lot of talking in this whole story actually. I hope it's okay. The next chapter should be more exciting. As always, I'd love to hear from you!_


	4. Wednesday

_Hi all! Thank you all so much for continuing to read the story. I'm so happy that I haven't bored everyone to tears yet. _

_Special thanks go out to Tweetiepie, Overkalix, and Whirlgirl, who I couldn't reply to. With regard to the splitting up the days into more than one chapter, I do appreciate your feedback. The issue is that the previous days were 10-14 pages each. The next 3 days are about 25-35 pages each, which is WAY too long for a chapter. They'd end up being more than twice the length of chapter 3. So that's why I'm breaking them up. I will keep the breaks in themes that make sense though, I promise._

_This is an extremely short chapter, but I felt it should stand alone. The next chapters will all be much longer (around the length of the previous 3)._

_

* * *

_**Chapter 4: Wednesday-**_  
_

I woke up the next morning at 6 am. Immediately my heart was pounding and the restless night I'd had didn't help. This mattress sucked. I closed my eyes and said another prayer. I was terrified that I would walk out the door and find my brother awake. Taking a deep, calming breath, I threw on my uniform and walked into the control room.

It was quiet. None of the monitors were on and the auto light was blinking. Thank God. I stood for a moment, just reveling in the quiet.

_Clank._

I froze and my stomach tightened. That had come from the kitchen...

Slowly, and with great hesitation, I walked into the small kitchenette. There, seated at the table, his head on his arm, a ginger ale in his hand, was my brother. I knew it was impossible, but I was wishing so hard that he wasn't really there. I tried blinking it away but the scene didn't change.

I doubted he was asleep, but just in case, I quietly entered the room. He lifted his head and looked at me. The whites of his eyes were so bloodshot that there _was_ no more white.

"I watched the clock. Nine o'clock, ten o'clock, eleven, twelve, one, two, three, four, five...It just keeps going ...every minute. I saw every minute. Every minute turned." His eyes clenched shut as he started to cry.

Like an idiot, I stood there and stared.

"John, I'm so tired."

I felt my own eyes tear up. How could he possibly still be awake? It wasn't possible.

"My head's killing me. I just want to sleep."

I knelt down next to him and cringed at the wear on his face. It was as though he'd aged twenty years. "I'll get you some pills. You need to sleep. When you wake up, we'll talk about whether you're going to stay here."

His look was blank. I doubt he processed any of that. Leaving him for the moment, I went to the med. supply box and got out two pills of Diphenhydramine . It was a light-weight over-the-counter antihistamine, also used to treat insomnia, and more commonly known as Benadryl. Drugs in hand, I ran back to the kitchen.

Gordon was still in his seat, now staring at his left hand. As I got nearer, I could see that he was holding something red and furry. What the hell? I bent down next to him for a closer look. Oh my God. It was his hair. He was holding a chunk of his hair.

"What did you do?"

He didn't answer me. I put the pills on the table and pushed his head to the side. Sure enough, a four inch row of significantly thinned hair greeted me. He wasn't bleeding...what the hell had he-

As I let go of his head, my hands were spotted with hair. His hair was falling out. I panicked. This was so bad. Of course severe stress could cause someone's hair to fall out; I just had never seen it actually happen.

"My hair's falling out."

I looked back down at him and handed him the pills. "Here, take these."

He drank them down with a swig of ginger ale. My heart felt like it was going to explode through my chest.

Reaching down, I hoisted my brother up and walked him back to my bed. "Lay down. The pills will kick in, okay? You'll fall asleep."

Desperation oozed from his expression. "I'm so tired."

I met his eyes. "It'll be okay. Just close your eyes."

He did.

I waited a few minutes before walking into the control room. My hands were shaking. I looked down...they still had some of his hair on them.

We were going home. That was it. End of story. Whenever he woke up, I didn't care how he felt, we were leaving. Executive decision made.

I tried to calculate in my head the last time he had eaten something. About three days ago now? The last time he slept was over 80 hours ago; add to that the fact that he was in outer space and having panic attack after panic attack... No wonder his hair was falling out.

I moved to my brother's room and repacked his duffel. Then I ran through the ship gathering everything I needed to bring home. The only thing I needed from my own room was my laptop, but that could wait until after Gordon was up. No way I was going to risk waking him.

A half hour later, Three was loaded with our stuff and I initiated the automation procedures for Five. A lot was involved with putting Five on automatic. It wasn't just flipping a switch. I had to shut things down all over the ship.

It took me another 15 minutes to put all the electrical systems on standby. They were solar powered, but we didn't like to leave them on if nobody was up here. With them off, there was less of a fire hazard.

Finally, an hour after I started, I had everything but the monitors ready for automation. Now, to just reroute the satellite signal...

"No!"

I jumped in my seat and turned around.

Gordon stumbled into the room, mashing his head between his hands. Immediately, I ran over to him.

"John!" His hands left his head and grabbed onto me, taking some hair with them. His red, tear-filled eyes were wild and he seemed to be gasping in his breaths.

"Help me. Please." He crashed his weight into me and I stumbled back, grabbing at his elbows to hold him up. I had no idea what this was. A walking nightmare?

He pulled himself up so that we were eye to eye. "I can't breathe. I can't breathe!"

He was trembling so badly that my own body was being shaken.

"The pills... I can't... I'm awake. I'm wide awake. I don't know... I can't... Everything's moving around! I can't find the floor!"

His eyes got wider and he broke away from me, spinning in a circle, clenching his hands in the air. "I can't breathe! My heart...I can't."

He grabbed me again and put my hand on his chest. I could feel his heart pounding through the shirt. "John!" He was looking right at me as he started crying. "Please! John...Please..."

He fell into me again, sobbing uncontrollably. I got it. He was still wide-awake. Whatever effect the pills had had, it wasn't good.

I hugged him tightly to me, trying to hold him as he stumbled around. "I'm taking you home. Three's packed; your stuff's on-board; I've got almost all of the automation done on Five. We're leaving. We're leaving, Gords. You're going home."

He was still gasping for breath as he pulled back enough to look me in the eye. "I want to die."

Something snapped inside me. Years of professional training kicked in and I detached from my feelings. "No you don't. You're just insane because of sleep deprivation."

"I'll never be able to sleep. Never. I can't breathe."

I shook him hard. "Gordon, stop it!"

He did. He was still wide-eyed, but the gasping stopped almost immediately. I pointed a finger at him. "Now you listen to me. We are going home. Home. On Earth. You will be in your bed, surrounded by our family with your windows open and the sea breeze blowing in."

A tear dripped from his eye and his face told how desperately he wanted to be there.

"We are leaving, right now. And you-" I pointed at him again, "-you will keep it together until we get there. Do you understand me?"

If I didn't stop the panic, he really was going to have a heart attack.

He blinked at me before slowly shaking his head. Apparently, no, he didn't understand. Well, that was fine, as long as he wasn't hyperventilating anymore.

"Stand there and don't move."

I left him there to finish the automation and grab my laptop. Two minutes later, he was still standing, swaying actually, where I'd left him. I caught him before he fell to the ground. "Come on."

Laptop under my arm, I manhandled my brother to the airlock. I had brought our suits out before and had them all ready to go. I pointed to his. "Put that on."

Nothing happened; he just stared at it. I was wasting no more time. I helped him suit up and then got myself ready. Within five minutes, we were seated and strapped in on Three.

Sitting there, I finally realized how quickly I had done everything. Haste was not good safety protocol. I promised to get my brother home, not burn him up re-entering the atmosphere. Coming back to reality, I unstrapped myself and rechecked both of our suits. Then I checked the airlocks, the automation, and Gordon's straps. Now more confident, I buckled myself back in and sealed the lock.

"Base from Thunderbird Three."

My father's face appeared, confusion all over it. "John?"

"We're coming home. ETA two hours, twenty minutes."

"Wh-"

Comm. link off.

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_I know, that was very short. I do apologize. The next chapter will be normal sized, I promise. In the meanwhile, I hope you're still enjoying the story._


	5. Home

_Okay, back to normal sized chapters! Thank you all for continuing to read my story! I'm so thrilled that you came back to read chapter 5! And thanks to Whirlgirl and Overkalix who I couldn't reply to. In answer to your question, yes a person can go longer than 80 hours without sleeping, but it's really bad for you and can cause major, major physical and psychological problems. People in a significantly traumatic situation will often suffer from extreme insomnia because the body produces chemicals to keep you going in order to survive the 'attack'. Unfortunately, that can't go on indefinitely..._

_Also, before reading this chapter, I'd just like to remind everyone that this is all from John's point of view, so there are things that he isn't aware of, isn't attending to, or may be misperceiving. Please don't jump down my throat because your favorite character didn't get a chance to shine here. I'm not used to dealing with more than two main characters. This is very difficult for me. I'm doing the best I can. The reactions of each Tracy will be revealed, I just couldn't handle doing it all in one chapter..._

_**Warning: Major bad language. Major. If you don't like reading the 'f' word. Skip this chapter. After this there'll only be one more instance of it (it's mentioned once in chapter 6). The rest of the story is PG13 language.  
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**_**Chapter 5: Home-**

I had ignored the blinking comm link the entire way home. I needed to concentrate on getting us back safely. Gordon didn't speak a word throughout the journey. He just stared wide-eyed and unblinking. I was thinking that he was catatonic until we re-entered the atmosphere and he started projectile vomiting ginger-ale all over the controls. When I barked at him to wipe it up, he complied immediately. That was the only sign I had that my brother was still with me.

Having landed, I focused on shutting down Three and getting Gordon into his bed. As I walked him out of the ship and into the hangar, I noticed that all of the island residents, save Kyrano, were there to greet us.

"John, what's going on?"

I dismissed my father's questions. "Not now, dad. I need to help Gordon."

"Why? What's wrong? What happened?" asked Scott.

I ignored him and used my teeth to rip off my gloves. Gordon was standing as stiff as a statue. I didn't even know if he realized that he was standing up, much less that we were on Earth.

Placing a hand on either side of his face, I tried to get through. "Gordon!"

For a fleeting second, the eyes focused. Then they glazed over again.

"Gordon. Listen to me."

Nothing.

I shook him. He blinked and I saw some awareness.

"We're home. On Earth."

In an instant, his expression morphed from blank to terrified. His eyes flicked around and I could see by the fear they held, that my brother had no idea where he was. He was aware enough to know we weren't on Five anymore, but where we were and how we got there...there was no recognition.

I tried again. "We're home."

The frightened eyes looked at me and a tear dripped down his face. God only knew what the rest of the family was thinking at this point.

With a sigh, I gave up on trying to get through to him. He needed to sleep. Now. The longer this went on, the more likely it was that his body would just give out.

Releasing his head, I began unstrapping his gloves. His hands quivered, vibrating at the same frequency as the rest of his body. As I unzippered his suit, I saw Virgil underneath me, untying Gordon's boots. I was grateful for his help.

It was completely silent in the hangar. Although my family hovered around us, the questions had ceased. It wasn't unexpected; we dealt with emergency situations for a living. The general rule was, if there is a crisis, survey the situation, and if it's being handled, don't get in the way. Add to that the fact that they still didn't know what had happened and it wasn't surprising that they were keeping a close, but silent, watch.

Virgil stood up and pulled Gordon's right arm out of the suit as I did the left. Then we both helped him step out of the boots. I went to escort Gordon to his room when I was stopped by a hand on my chest. It was my father.

"John, what happened, son?"

Anger rose inside me. What happened was that you sent your son into space unprepared and against his will and he had a nervous breakdown! My brother was on the verge of having a heart attack and it had been entirely preventable.

I glared at the man who had caused all this. "Gordon needs to lay down in his bed. Now. I'll talk to you after." And believe me, I _would _be talking to him after. Pushing his hand off of me, I moved forward, Virgil flanking Gordon's other side.

The pack followed us all the way to Gordon's bedroom.

"Uh, John, did you, uh,want to bring him-"

"No. He needs to be where he's most comfortable." Brains' interruption only stoked the fire.

Leaving Gordon standing in the middle of the room, I ran over to the balcony and flung open the French doors. Immediately, a wave of sea-scented heat flowed in to the beach-themed room. It was probably too hot to leave the doors open long, but I really felt that Gordon needed to smell his ocean. The olfactory sense is the sense most strongly connected to emotional regulation. If anything could get through to Gordon, the sea would.

When I turned around, Virgil was helping Gordon get settled on his bed. Out of all of us, I'd say Virgil has the best instincts in assessing a situation. Scott would claim that _he_ does, but he'd be wrong. Virgil is truly gifted at observing a scene and immediately knowing what help to provide and how it needs to be delivered.

I watched as Virgil pushed our brother's head down onto the light blue pillowcase. His hand graze through Gordon's hair and I winced. Sure enough, a clump of shed hair remained intertwined with Virgil's fingers. For a moment he just stared at it, but then he turned to me with a fearful expression.

"Telogen Effluvium." I explained. It was the medical name for sudden hair loss due to stress or trauma.

Two words and my brother suddenly understood the entire situation. A familiar look of worried sadness appeared on his face and he turned back to Gordon.

Stepping between the various dirty clothes, I walked to the bed and slunk down on the floor by my brother's pillow. I noticed there was no stubble on his cheeks or chin. I doubted he'd shaved this morning. I certainly hadn't. I sighed. Well, it wasn't uncommon- telogen effluvium usually went along with dormant hair follicles...

With a breath, I took a good look at my brother's face. His round, unblinking brown eyes stared into nothing. He was catatonic again. I shook his shoulder. "Gordon. You're home. Look." I pointed out the doors. "Can you see the ocean?"

He blinked and looked in my direction. Suddenly he gasped and tears entered his eyes.

I dreaded to think what this must be like for him; having no idea where he is, slipping in and out of reality... I leaned in towards him, getting in his eyeline. "You're back home."

"I'm back home?" he whispered.

His expression was telling me that he didn't fully understand what he had said. But I nodded, relieved to hear him speak at all. I went for further proof of where he was. I pointed to Virgil. "Look, it's Virgil." Gordon followed my finger and Virgil smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Hey, welcome home, bro."

I plucked at the blue, white, and yellow checkered bed covers. "See? You're on your bed."

He gaze drifted down and his hand shook more. "John?"

I waited for him to say more.

"Please..." A tear dripped towards the pillow. He was gone- reality wasn't getting through. Who even knew what he was seeing? There was a very highly likelihood that he was actively hallucinating- or completely unable to think at all.

Pulling myself up a bit, I leaned over him and put a hand on his back. "You're home, Gords. You're safe. You're home. We're not in space. You're at home." I kept going; repeating myself over and over, hoping that at some point, something would get through.

It took about three minutes, but then I saw it. Gordon's eyes grew heavy and he began to slowly blink. The eyelids would close, open half way, close again...

"Reminds you of when he was five, doesn't it?" Virgil whisper snapped me out of my reverie.

I didn't respond to him; I just continued my mantra. Slowly the blinks became weaker until finally his eyes remained closed. Unwilling to risk it, I continued to talk to him, reassuring him that he was safe and at home, for another 5 minutes.

His breathing was even and I could see his eyes flicking back and forth beneath the lids. He was already dreaming. I prayed it was a good dream.

My own hands shaking, I let out a loud sigh, closed my eyes, and sat down against the wall. When I opened my eyes back up, I realized everyone was still in the room...and staring at me. Before I could think about it, Gordon shifted, moving himself into his normal sleeping position. It was a relief to see him on his belly with both arms under the pillow. It gave me hope that he'd actually remain asleep this time.

With Gordon settled, I realized that I still had to address my family. No way was I leaving Gordon alone though. With all the nightmares he'd been having? Not to mention he wasn't thinking clearly... Nuh uh, not a chance in hell that I'd leave him by himself. But, knowing that my father's patience was probably running thin, I _would_ need to leave. What I had to say could not be done quietly.

Virgil was still seated on the bed, looking down at our brother. I whispered to him, "Take care of him. I'm going to fill everyone in."

As I moved to get up, Virg stopped me. "Wait, John. Fill _me_ in."

I had forgotten that Virgil didn't know anything. I made it brief and kept it as quiet as I could. "Extreme stress, hasn't slept in 80 hours, and hasn't eaten since he left here. Anything he's taken in has come back up. Took Diphenhydramine around 6 am. He didn't fall asleep, heart rate skyrocketed, breathing became erratic, possible hallucinations, periods of catonia, and now we're here."

That was enough for him. With a nod, Virgil took my position on the floor as I got up. I didn't look at anybody, just walked out the door. They all followed. Knowing that I was more than likely going to end up yelling, and not wanting to risk waking my brother, I didn't stop walking until I was standing in my father's office.

Finally, I turned around. My father, Scott, Alan, grandma, and Brains faced me. Tin Tin must have gone off somewhere, which was better for her.

My father's eyes met mine. "Alright, John. What happened? And why did you cut the connection to Three? You kept us out of the loop. We didn't know what the hell was going on. I had Alan running remote diagnostics, checking Five's systems, thinking there'd been a malfunction."

Hearing his voice, his questions, his own lack of answers...he was the one who had caused this. And yet he didn't know what was going on? Open your fucking eyes old man. Was he really that stupid or was it that he just didn't give a damn? "You want to know what happened? I'll tell you what happened. Congratulations, dad. You broke him. You took the strongest human being on the face of the planet, set him up for failure, and then pounded him until he cracked."

Scott shook his head "John, what-"

My eyes stayed on my father. "NASA requires 22 tests, physical and mental, to be passed before they send someone into space. You know that. Hundreds of brilliant people, who've had four times the training Gordon has are turned down every year because they can't pass the tests, and yet _you_, as commander of International Rescue, take the one aquanaut we have and fling him into space without requiring even one test. You sent him _twenty-two thousand miles_ _above the surface of the Earth_, without checking to see if he was fit for it _and _despite the fact that he told you he didn't want to go. You completely ignored his concerns. You sent him there with the intention of having him stay there alone. He asked you if he could modify the training and start out only being up for a week and with someone else. You told him it was too inconvenient."

I squinted my eyes further. "Too _fucking _inconvenient."

Two sets of eyes flashed and the others looked shocked at my language.

I continued. "When did it become that doing things quickly was more important than doing them safely? I must have missed that memo."

Before my father could open his mouth, I marched toward him, finger first. "He hasn't slept in over 80 hours, told me he didn't sleep well the night before he flew up there. I'm sure you noticed. Did you do anything? It must have been too _inconvenient_ for you to wait one more day before letting him come up. Or maybe you were just crossing your fingers and hoping for the best- because that's a good way to run things."

His expression revealed nothing and I went on. "Anytime he did fall asleep up there, which totaled 45 minutes- not consecutive, he had a nightmare. You want to know what they were about?"

I looked at Alan and Scott. "The first was that he was outside repairing Five and a meteor hit him and he flew out in to space."

Back to dad. "The second was that he was switched at birth with another kid who ended up being an astronaut and a rocket scientist and everyone in the family loved that kid more than Gordon because of it."

The quick breath in let me know _that_ comment did not leave my father unaffected. "He was so petrified being up there that on top of not sleeping, he couldn't eat. Every time he'd try, he'd throw up."

I turned and walked towards the bookshelves. "He had, I'd say, about... five panic attacks."

Spinning around, I faced them again. "He was completely ashamed, told me he felt like a failure, that everyone would lose respect for him. After 60 hours of no sleep or food he was crying because he didn't want to let everyone down, _especially_ you dad. He told me that he was a loser because everyone else could do this, but_ he_ was having a hard time."

My face red, I stomped forward. "He never should have been in that position! There is no way he would've passed the stress tests at NASA. What the _fuck_ makes you so special that _your_ employees don't have to meet any requirements to be alone in outer space. Hell, in International Rescue they don't even need to be astronauts! We just throw people into any position without proper training and then blame _them_ if it doesn't work. Or were you ordering him to go up there as your son? Because the great Jefferson Tracy won't accept a son who isn't an astronaut!"

Rage billowed in my father's eyes. "Now hold on just one minute-"

"No! He's the best _fucking_ aquanaut in the world. THE BEST! He has an Olympic gold medal for Pete's sake! That wasn't good enough? Dad, do you even get how good he is? I've talked to WASP. Gordon is the top. His abilities as an aquanaut _dwarf_ my skill as an astronaut. They make Scott look like an amateur crop duster. He is the _best_! And that's not good enough. He has to be an astronaut. You'll never like him as much as the rest of us because he's not like you-"

"I said THAT'S ENOUGH!" The glass sculptures on the bookcase rattled.

I was screaming at this point. "No! Because of you, Gordon, the same Gordon who spent months fighting through excruciating pain without one complaint, looked me in the eyes this morning and told me he wanted to die! He was hallucinating, psychotic, and having such a bad panic attack that I really, truly believed that he was going to have a heart attack! Because of _your _actions, your son was so terrified and stressed that his hair started falling out!"

I moved for the door. "As far as I'm concerned, you're incompetent as a commander. Your ordering Gordon to space against his will was in complete disregard for the best interests of your son and this organization. Your actions are reprehensible. I don't want to be a part of this any more."

I opened the door and looked back at my father. "Go find yourself another fucking astronaut. I quit."

There was a gasp behind me as I left the room. I didn't give a shit. In that moment, I truly hated my father. What was worse, I couldn't remember half of what I'd said. I didn't even know if it was coherent. I was just so pissed. And I was actually a little worried that in saying whatever I had said, I had made Gordon look bad. I knew how concerned my brother was that people would think of him as a failure. I really hoped that I hadn't portrayed him that way.

Upon re-entering my brother's room, I noticed Virgil look up from his seat in the lounge chair. I ignored him and took my place on the floor, next to Gordon.

"You really quitting?"

Apparently, I _hadn't_ gone far enough to keep the sound of my yelling out of my brother's room. I looked up and found Virgil was staring at me with that annoying therapist look he has at times. I growled at him, "Not now."

Ugh, and there was the 'understanding look'. Fucking aggravating. I turned back to Gordon.

God, he looked so tired. Even in his sleep. Suddenly, I was bombarded by the memory of his tear-filled eyes looking at me as he told me he wanted to die. Tears filled my own eyes and I felt a frown pulling at my lips. I fought against it.

I reached out and stroked my brother's hair; half of it came out in my hand. The bags under his eyes looked horrible. His forehead was wrinkled from the worry lines that had planted themselves in his face all week.

I had slowly watched this happen. I only hoped that I had gotten him back in time. I moved my hand to his back and just felt it go up and down with his breathing. Under my fingers, his heart beat, much slower than the last time I had felt it. More memories overwhelmed me. I just couldn't get my brother's panicked face out of my mind. God, he had terrified me. My face was starting to crack. I was losing the battle.

I put my other arm on the bed and dropped my head into it. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore, at least this way no one would see them.

I managed to keep it silent. The tears just flowed from my eyes while I concentrated on the feeling of my hand on my brother's warm back. Finally, the water stopped leaking. With a sniff, I picked my head up.

The carefree look that my brother always wore- God, there was no sign that it ever even existed. I wished so much that Gordon's face looked peaceful. He was sleeping, people's faces were supposed to relax in slumber...

I heard the door open, but my eyes stayed focused on my brother.

"John..."

I tensed at the rage in Scott's voice. If he woke Gordon up I was going to hurt him...badly.

"Scott, leave it." Virgil, ever the peace maker...

"Virg, he-"

I could tell by the way Scott stopped speaking that he and Virgil had entered some sort of silent argument.

Scott ended it, resuming his mission. "John, you and I are-"

"Scott, you are not going to have this conversation right now. Get out."

That made me look up. I had never heard Virgil speak to Scott that way. The rest of us, yes, but Scott? Huh. Scott had his hands on his hips, towering over Virg. Virgil had placed himself between me and our older brother and was glaring right back. Yep, this was definitely new.

They faced off until Virgil spoke again. "I'm not kidding. Get. Out."

With a snarl, Scott left. Virgil stared at the door long after it closed. Then, with a loud sigh, his body relaxed. Shaking out his hands, he turned around and knelt down by me. "How much sleep did _you_ get?"

I shook my head and wiped the wetness from my eyes. "I'm fine."

"No, your not. You're on the verge of cracking yourself."

My eyes squinted in anger. "Virg-"

He held up his hands and stood up. "Okay. Subject dropped."

He continued to look at me though and I felt myself starting to fall apart again. As soon as he saw it, he moved back in- knelt down and put a hand on my back. I shrugged it off.

"Oh so what? You're allowed to be worried about him but I can't be worried about you?"

I realized my hand was still on Gordon's back. I took it off.

Virg rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable. "John-"

I felt the energy draining out of me, taking any residual anger along with it. I shifted my position so that I was completely parallel to the bed and leaned my head against the mattress.

Virgil faced me. "I'll stay with him. Go get some sleep."

"And if there's a call?"

Virgil didn't get it, so I explained. "He was afraid to be alone. That was the whole thing...well, maybe not the _whole _thing, but it was a big part."

"We won't leave him alone then. Someone will be with him until he wakes up and kicks us out."

I looked down at my hands. It reminded me... "You know he looks at his hands when he's scared?"

"No, he looks at his hands when he's embarrassed. He hugs people when he's scared." Right, Virgil the observer.

The laugh escaped my lips. Gordon did hug when scared. The difference was, in the past, the thing that most often scared him was one of us almost getting killed. Anytime that happened, the potential killee would find themselves smothered in a bear hug. This time though, he was frightened of something that was constantly present, not a fleeting moment.

"So, how many times you get hugged?"

I smiled, fixated on a cobweb in the corner of the ceiling. It was blowing back and forth in the sea-breeze. "Actually, I think I was the one who initiated most of the hugging."

"Wow, you really are close to cracking."

I rolled my eyes and refocused on the string of dust. I doubted Gordon ever cleaned this place. I mean, he did his laundry, what? Once a month? And did he ever file anything? There were loose papers everywhere!

"Poor Gordon, he was probably afraid that if _he_ hugged _you_, you'd throw him out. You do get awful ornery when people try to hug you."

"I do not. Besides, who else tries to hug me?"

He smirked at me and I glared, wondering what that was about. "Johnny, that's so sad...your little brother's the only one who'll hug you..."

I squinted my eyes. "You're not funny and I wouldn't talk if I were you. When was _your_ last time? Last October?"

"Ouch." He winced. "It was November actually...and shut up."

I had a ghost of a smile. "You started it."

Virgil's face grew serious. He nodded at Gordon. "He scared the crap out of you, didn't he?"

I noticed that the 'subject' was not 'dropped', but by now my anger had faded. "I've never seen him so frightened. He was scared to death to be up there. And the whole time, he was working so hard, on no sleep and no food. He really wanted to get through it. He was terrified to be there and terrified to fail."

"Wow. Knowing him as a little kid, I'm continuously shocked at how he turned out. His strength of character is unbelievable."

What? There's a reason we mock Virgil for being moody. One minute he's kidding, the next he's completely serious. There was no way to ever predict how he'd react to something. "He's gonna be really upset I brought him home."

Virgil laughed. "It's Gordon, he'll get over it."

No, he wouldn't. "I made him a failure, Virg."

Sudden anger entered my brother's eyes. "He is _not _a failure. How the hell could you even say that?"

I froze. I didn't think he was a failure...but...shit. Did I? Is that what I had just said? I didn't think less of him, but...Shit. Shit. I hadn't meant to think that way, but Virgil was right, I did think that not making it through the month was failing the mission. I never thought of _Gordon_ as a failure though. Not completing a mission didn't mean that he, himself, was a failure...

I quickly tried to backtrack. "I didn't mean it the way it came out. Gordon was upset because he thought if he didn't make it the month, everyone would see him as weak and a failure."

"Well, I don't see him as either. If you put me in a situation that terrified me to my very core and then deprived me of food and sleep, I don't think I'd make it a day. In fact, psychosis is supposed to set in at 60 hours of sleep deprivation- Gordon made it to 80 and had drugs in his system before he lost it. They actually use sleep deprivation to torture people in war and most men break a lot sooner than he did. If you see him as a failure, you should get your eyes checked."

"I don't." And I meant it. "Gordon's one of the strongest people I know. He's just not so good with space."

Virgil stood up. "Well, lucky for us then that we've got an abundance of space enthusiasts on the team."

"I don't want you thinking that I think of him as any less."

He looked down at me. "I'd worry less about what _I_ think you think and more about what _he_ thinks you think."

I stood as well and nodded, worried now that I had contributed to Gordon's fear that he would lose respect.

Virg sighed and looked me over. "Get some rest. I promise he won't be alone."

Feeling sad, I nodded. "Thanks for the ear, Virg."

"No prob."

I went to leave, but then thought of something. "And, uh, thanks for protecting me from Scott."

Virgil rolled his eyes and scowled. "Ugh, Scott. He's been a pain in my ass all week. Ever since you told him off."

Really? I raised my brow at that.

Virg gave me a look and then did a Scott impression, "Do you think I put Gordon down? I don't mean to put him down. Do I put anyone else down? Because I don't mean to. Do I put you down? Why didn't anyone ever tell me? Do I do it all the time? I think very highly of Gordon. Does he know? Do you think he knows? What about John? Did I insult John? I've never seen him that mad. Why was he so mad? I was only joking. Do you think Gordon was mad too? Did Gordon know I was joking? I couldn't talk to Gordon. Should I call him? Should I call John? What should I do? What do you think? What do I say?"

He paused and looked at me. "I swear, I was going to kill him. You know, you hold more power than you think, John. You said two sentences to him and you had him reduced to an obsessive, insecure, mess."

I snorted. "I'll apologize."

"I'd give it some time first. He wants to nail you to the floor right now because of what you said to dad-"

"I meant what I said to dad."

"-in front of grandma."

Oh shit. Grandma was there. Yeah...not good.

Virgil waved me to the door. "Just let it rest for now. Get some sleep and then deal with it when things are calmer."

Good advice. "Yeah. Thanks."

One last look at Gordon and I left for my room. I couldn't wait for a long shower and an even longer nap.

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_There's lots more reactions to come! I hope you'll come back for chapter 6! As always, I'd love to hear from you!_


	6. Grandma and Father

_Is it me or is fanfiction . net spazzing? One minute there are five chapters up, the next there are three. Oh well, hopefully they'll work it out. I can't complain since this place allows me to post and read stories for free! Despite the issues, this really is a great site. I sent out a thanks to who ever started and runs this!_

_Also, thanks to everyone for coming back to read chapter 6 and big thanks to those who reviewed, especially Overkalix and Whirlgirl who I can't reply to. And Whirlgirl- what you hit on will be brought up in this chapter! Great job noticing that!_

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_**Chapter 6: Grandma and Father-**

I awoke almost nine hours later. I was honestly shocked. I knew I hadn't gotten a great night's sleep, but still, I was expecting something like a three hour nap to clear that up. Damn. Walking to the 'casual pants section' of my closet, I plucked a clean pair of khakis off their hanger. Then I made my way over to the 'Polo shirt section' and took one of the red ones. Placing both hangars in the 'hangar section,' I proceeded to get dressed. The hallway was quiet and dark. I noticed the door to Gordon's room was open. I peeked in, just to check on him.

Alan was seated in the lounge chair, reading something on his laptop. Gordon was still asleep, but laying on his side. I knocked lightly and Alan looked up.

"Has he woken up at all?" I whispered.

My brother shook his head and I exhaled in relief. With a thumbs up, I made my way to the family room.

It was 8 pm now and I had obviously missed dinner. The smell of freshly made tomato sauce lingered in the air as if mocking my late arrival. Maybe there was some left over in the kitchen.

"John."

My grandmother's voice turned me around.

She came over to me and took my hand in between hers. "Honey, you slept for a long time. How are you feeling?"

I shrugged her off. "I'm fine, grandma." If she thought _I_ slept for a long time, Gordon was going to put her in a tailspin.

"We were worried about you, dear."

Worried about me? Why the hell would anyone be worried about _me_? _Gordon_ was the one who had been tortured all week.

"There's nothing to worry about me for. I'm fine. Gordon's the one who you need to be concerned about." I winced as soon as it came out of my mouth. Great job, John. Tell grandma she needs to worry...

Closing my eyes, I shook my head, took a deep breath, and started over. I picked up my grandmother's hands. "I'm sorry, grandma." She looked up at me, her big blue eyes searching mine. "I really am okay. I've just been very worried about Gordon. But I know he'll be okay now that he's home."

She smiled and squeezed my hands. "He will be, dear. He's had good care the past few days."

I started for a minute, scared that I had slept a lot longer than I thought, but then I realized she was talking about me.

I disagreed. "What he needed is to be here."

"I know, I was there when you were...um, _updating_ your father, remember?"

Riiight. I grimaced. "Yeah... About that. I'm sorry for my language. I hadn't really...I mean...I was so...I kind of forgot..."

She patted my hand. "It's all right, John. You didn't use any words I haven't used myself at times."

Well, there was an image I didn't need. Grandma cursing. I shuddered.

She let me go and made her way to the kitchen. "Kyrano made some very nice sauce and pasta. Are you hungry?"

"Uh, Yeah." I went to follow her into the kitchen, but she stopped me via a small hand on my chest.

"Now you just sit at that table. I'll heat it up and bring it out for you. You haven't had someone make you a meal in over 5 months. You just let me be a grandma."

I smiled and did as told. When she came out, she was carrying a heaping bowl of spaghetti. My mouth watered at the smell of the sauce. She placed it down in front of me and sat to my left.

I dug right in. Oh my God that was good!

Grandma chuckled. "Good is it? I think Kyrano will be disappointed that he missed that expression on your face."

I wiped my mouth with a napkin. "Don't worry, grandma. I'll be sure to tell him just how good this food is."

She smiled again.

That reminded me... "Oh! By the way, Gordon snuck me some of your stuffed pork chops and mashed potatoes the other day. They were fantastic."

Her face lit up before becoming suspicious. "I hope your brother didn't decide to add any of his own ingredients to my recipe..."

My smile faded. I had accused him of that. Actually, everyone had. Even grandma- GRANDMA of all people thought he'd do something like that. But he hadn't... I stopped. My worry was causing me to go too easy on him. Gordon had that reputation for a reason. He built that himself. Yes, he hadn't done it this time, but that didn't mean the suspicion was uncalled for. I needed to shake myself out of 'protective' mode. Gordon had quite a few annoying characteristics and as worried about him as I was, I needed to keep them in mind.

I answered my grandmother. "No. He was afraid I'd retaliate, so he didn't prank me at all."

She looked impressed.

I ate the rest of my dinner in silence while my grandmother busied herself by cleaning things. With a satisfied grin, I leaned back in the chair and gripped my belly. "Man, that was good."

Grandma ruffled my hair and picked up the bowl. She paused though, and her face grew serious. "John,"

I sat up straight and looked up at her. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully.

"What you said to your father..."

I went to interrupt her; I still meant what I had said. But she held up her hand to stop me.

"The business about the training and the tests and being an astronaut, I don't know all that much about all that... I'm sure you and your father will discuss it. But John..."

She looked right at me and I felt her stare run through me. "Your father loves your brother with all his heart. He loves each one of you boys; he loves you all equally; and whether or not you are the best has nothing to do with it. He was just as proud watching Scott receive his medal of honor as he was watching Gordon take those first few steps after his accident."

I looked down at the table, unsure if I believed what my grandmother was saying.

"As I've said, I don't know about the technical things and the training, but I do know about the love in this house. And what you said to your father was wrong, very wrong. I hope that you see that and that you apologize."

I nodded, standing up. "If I ever do see that, I'll apologize."

She looked disappointed, but actions spoke louder than words and my father's actions seemed pretty clear to me. Five people could handle five, only one could do deep sea rescue, and my father chose to have another astronaut trained. Something told me that if my father had been an aquanaut instead of an astronaut, his decision would have been very different.

Leaving my grandmother, I made my way back to Gordon's room. I was about to walk in, when I stopped short. My father was there.

I pulled my body out of the doorway and off to the side. He was seated on a small chair, pulled up next to the bed. He stared at my brother with silent tears dripping from his eyes. I could tell by the way he was covering his mouth that he was trying to get his emotions under control.

I had seen my father in tears before, but each time it had been after someone died or came close to it. As far as I knew, Gordon was not in that state. Unless dad knew something I didn't...

Finally, he squeezed his eyes shut in pain, opened them again, and looked down at his hands. So that's where Gordon gets it from...

When my father looked up, the tears had stopped. He leaned back in his chair and began to look around the room. We both froze when his eyes hit the door.

I could feel my face redden in embarrassment at being caught. Even in the poor light, I could see his do the same. With a swallow, he stood up and pointed at me. I backed up into the hallway, knowing that he was coming out. Great, time for round two... My heart was thumping in my chest. There was no way I was going to escape another argument.

Sure enough, my father came out and immediately looked me over. I could see that his eyes were still wet.

"How do you feel?"

Why did people keep asking me that? I wasn't the one who was sick... "I'm fine."

He nodded and spoke as he approached Scott's door. "I want to talk to you."

Before I could respond, he knocked on the door. The sound of muffled voices stopped- I hadn't even noticed them. The door opened with a hiss to find Virgil standing there, arms folded across his chest, his teeth clenched in anger. Behind him stood Scott, with a similar look. My father raised his brows, but didn't question it.

"I want to speak with John. Will one of you sit with Gordon until I get back?"

"I will." They both replied in unison. Two sets of shoulders went up, tense at hearing the other one's words.

For a moment, neither spoke and I could see the rigidity in each of their bodies. Ultimately, it was Scott who moved first. He brushed past Virgil as he walked to the door. "You've already done your time-"

"Nice. Make it sound like a fucking prison sentence." Virgil pushed Scott into the wall and went straight into Gordon's room.

Scott rubbed his shoulder and I could see his skin rippling with adrenaline. His face set with determination, he marched toward the other room.

Despite the fact that I'd probably end up clobbered, I went to stop him. Fortunately for me, another hand beat me to it. Scott was focused on our brother's door as my dad spoke. "_Do not _wake your brother."

Scott went completely still and my father removed a hand from his arm. My brother was pulled so tight, his breaths were shaking. After a few seconds though, he literally backed down and retreated towards his room. Before entering, he stopped, looking down at the floor. "I _wanted _to sit with him. That wasn't what I meant. I, everybody keeps...forget it." And with that, he went back into his room and shut the door.

Just _watching_ that fight had me agitated. My father turned back towards me. Great. Couldn't wait for this. He pointed towards the family room, but I knew he meant to go beyond that, back into the office. With a sigh, I followed him. Wonderful, more yelling...

When we got there, my father immediately went and sat behind his desk. Ah, so it was to be a lecture then... I stood at attention in front of him.

He looked up at me with a sigh. "John, this isn't the military. Please sit."

I peered down at him. "Are you talking to me as my father or my commander."

"I'm no longer your commander, since you quit."

Right. Forgot about that. I wasn't sure I actually wanted to do that. In fact, I definitely didn't want to quit. I didn't think now was the right time to take that back though... I sat down.

My father leaned back and breathed in deep. I waited. After a minute he spoke, almost laughing at himself. "I have so much to say, I don't know where to start."

"Let me then." The look of apprehension he gave me was almost comical. I continued, "I'm sorry for the language I used before. It was uncalled for and inappropriate. I've apologized to grandma as well. In the future, I will chose my words more carefully."

He smiled. "I doubt that, but I do appreciate the apology."

I couldn't argue. He was right, if I was that pissed again, I'd probably use similar language. It's not like I get that angry all that often. Not counting this time, it's only happened three times before. Once directed at Virgil, once at Gordon and Alan, and once at my father. Normally I was extremely even tempered.

"John," My attention drew back to my dad. "You accused me of a lot of things this morning. Some were baldly untrue and extremely malign." He sent a sharp stare my way, but I didn't react. I knew what he was referring to and I wasn't sure that it wasn't true.

He took in a deep breath and dropped the stare. "Others though...you were right."

What? Wow, I hadn't expected that. My jaw must have dropped to the floor. He didn't seem to notice. He stood up and began examining the knick-knacks on the bookshelves. Definitely where Gordon gets it- and Gords was worried he had been switched at birth...

He shook his head and resumed speaking. "You need to know, it never even occurred to me that Gordon wouldn't be able to do his month on Five. The thought of that never even entered my mind. When he was telling me that he didn't want to do it or that he only wanted to go for a week at a time, he never... I had no idea that he was literally terrified about going into space."

I went to point out that if he had done the tests NASA does, he would've known, but held a hand out to stop me.

"I know." He looked at me. "You're absolutely right." He shook his head. "I don't... You know, I never even thought of giving those tests to you boys? God."

Rubbing a hand over his face, he dropped down into the chair. "I will take a good amount of responsibility for this. Without question, I should have run the tests, with all of you, to see if you were physically and mentally able to handle the stress of space. You all just deal with so much stress every day and Gordon is physically able to handle a deep sea environment, which places more stress on the body than he'd have as an astronaut... It just never crossed my mind that he wouldn't... You were correct in saying that I should have listened to his concerns more carefully."

His voice became hard. "But you need to understand something, I _do not _value any one of my children more than any other. I love your brother exactly the way he is- there is _nothing _ about him that I want to change. My sending him into space had _nothing_ to do with my wanting him to be an astronaut-"

"I don't believe you."

He looked shocked, like if he said it with enough force, I'd have to buy his story.

I shrugged. "I'm sorry, dad, but I don't believe that. There was no reason to send Gordon into space. He's the only one who can conduct a deep sea rescue and we have five people who can run Five. If anything, you should've had Gordon training someone to go deep sea, not sent_ him_ into space. There was no logical reason for what you did and the only reason I can think of, and I'm pretty sure Gordon's thinking the same way, is that you sent him there because you want all your children to be astronauts."

My father's breathing was barely restrained. "I sent him there because I thought it was important that each member of IR demonstrate competency with each of the Thunderbirds. Yes, the rest of you cannot perform a deep sea rescue, but you've all had training and experience in handling Four. You have all spent time completing solo practice missions in Four. Gordon was the only one who hadn't completed a solo mission in all of the Thunderbirds."

"But why should he have to?"

"He doesn't. I realize that now. Like I said, it never even occurred to me that he'd have a hard time with it. And I understand your anger John, I put him in a catch 22- do something impossible or admit failure-"

"You know, he might have been able to eventually do it if you had customized the training to him. Giving each one of us the exact same training without taking any of our differences into account is careless."

My father nodded. "Alan told me how wonderfully Gordon had done with the simulations, I just took Alan's word that he was ready."

I snorted. "He did an impeccable job flying Five. I didn't have to open my mouth once. He showed far better skill with it than Scott or Virgil had on their first run. Then he went to the kitchen and vomited. Going into space requires a bit more than being really good at procedures and simulations."

"I know. I know that. I screwed up and as a result, my son is suffering. Believe me John, I will carry this for a very long time. But you and Gordon aren't innocent here."

I looked up sharply.

My father leaned over the desk, his finger pointed. "I spoke with you both every day and not _once_ did either of you mention that there were problems. I asked you how it was going and the answers I got were, 'fine' and 'Gordon's doing great'."

I felt my stomach tighten, the adrenaline pouring into my limbs, what he was saying was true. But at the time, we were thinking that Gordon would get it together, so why tell dad...

"John, when you called in from Three this morning, I had _no _idea what the problem was. None. The only thing I could even think of was that something happened with Five because I talked to you both the night before and other than Gordon being 'jetlagged,' there were no issues. And explain to me why Three's communications were cut off."

I looked down at my hands- shit, well, what do you know? I do it too. I looked back up. "I'm sorry, Father. I was..." I brought myself back to that moment. What had I been thinking anyway? I had just been panicked, I wanted to get Gordon home safely, I couldn't handle anything else. "...overwhelmed. I was very worried about Gordon, I had to fly Three and concentrate, I couldn't deal with explaining everything."

My father nodded and sat back in the chair. "I know how badly this affected you, John, but one of the reasons you felt overwhelmed was because you and Gordon kept this quiet. We are a team- and a family. This isn't like ratting on your brother for not washing the dishes. You were in space! I mean, your brother was going to be alone up there! If you didn't feel that he-"

"I wasn't going to leave him up there. I made that decision day 3."

"And yet, you didn't feel it was important to share it. You asked me for extra time training him and the reason I got for that was that Gordon needed more time adjusting to a low pressure environment."

I couldn't help but question my father's acceptance of such a ridiculous explanation. He should've known something was up.

"How hard would it have been to say, 'I need to spend more time with Gordon because he's been unable to eat or sleep since he got here.'? Perhaps if you had explained the situation, I would have been more informed. We could have discussed if Gordon was really ready for this. We could have discussed him coming home-"

"Dad, Gordon did discuss it with you-"

"No."

I went to interrupt again, but my father didn't allow it.

"No he didn't. When your brother spoke to me, he was trying to convince me he was needed here on Earth more and that he shouldn't have to go into space. And while I agree with him now, at the time...at the time, I didn't want to deprive him of the opportunity."

"Deprive him of the opportunity!" I jumped to my feet. "That's exactly my point, dad! Gordon is nothing like you! He hates space, but you just want all your kids-"

"He never explained it!" Now my father was on his feet. "I wouldn't have had him up there if he told me how he really felt about it instead of making excuses! I DO NOT need my children to be astronauts. Don't you EVER accuse me of loving your brother any less ever again, John. EVER!"

The knick-knacks were rattling again. I couldn't help what came out next, I wanted to hurt him. "I think the reason this bothers you so much, dad, is because you know I'm right."

The rage in my father's eyes...if he had superpowers, I'd be a pile of dust on the floor. His whole body was shaking in fury; his face was beat red. When he was calm enough to speak, his speech was very soft, slow, and deliberate. "You keep talking about _me_ blurring the lines between family and IR. But _you_ were the one who blurred that line this week. You didn't share how your brother was coping because as his _brother_ you were trying to protect him from looking bad. But you were up there as lead astronaut. And as the lead astronaut, if your second isn't sleeping or eating, you have an obligation to him and to the team to share that information. You can blame me all you want for sending him there when he wasn't ready. As I've said, I accept that blame. But YOU are the reason he stayed there and YOU are the reason things got to the point that they did. Because if you had kept me informed, I would have pulled him out yesterday morning- _before _his hair started falling out."

"He didn't want to feel like a failure."

"Well, now he still hasn't completed the mission AND he's sick on top of it. You blame me all you want, but you made some very poor decisions up there and had you not quit, I'd have some serious concerns about letting you continue."

That stopped me. He was going to terminate me? I had been planning to talk to him about possibly _un_quitting. I guess that was out... Shit. What the hell was I going to do now? I could try to get a job with NASA again... But now I'd be even more removed from the family. At least on Five I was part of it, removed, yes, but I still had a role. Now I'd be separated and not part of anything. I abruptly sat back down, hugging my arms to my chest and staring at the carpet.

"John..."

I tensed at the voice, I'd forgotten for a second that he was still here.

He knelt down next to me, a hand on my back, and when I looked at him, I realized that I had tears in my eyes.

"John, please, I want to know, calmly, why you didn't tell me that he was having such a hard time."

I wiped my eyes and swallowed. "Gordon was embarrassed about it and he didn't want to let the family down. We thought he could get it together. But you're right, I knew yesterday that things were pretty bad and that it probably wasn't going to work." As I said it, I knew it was true. I did know then, while Gordon was napping in the pilot seat that things were really bad. I looked at my dad. "I'm sorry. I should've told you. I _was_ thinking as his brother, not his colleague."

My father rubbed my back and I shrugged away from it. He stopped.

"Have I become such a tyrant that you boys are afraid to tell me that you're sick?"

"Gordon told me that when he spoke with you, you told him that if he didn't complete a month on Five, he'd have to find a new job."

My father shook his head. "That wasn't what I said at all. What I said to him was that it was important for all members of IR to have experience with each of the Thunderbirds. I'll be amending that requirement, but look, you only heard one side of that discussion. I'd appreciate not being judged on Gordon's interpretation of my words."

He was right. I had based a lot of my decisions and anger on what Gordon relayed of his argument with our father. But in reality, I was just going by Gordon's perception, I had no idea what was actually said.

"In the future, if there's something that's affecting yours or anyone else's safety, I will need for you to speak to me about it. Even if it means one of your brothers may be angry with you for it."

I looked at him. "Does that mean I'm not fired?"

He gave me a small smile. "Does that mean you're not quitting?"

I shook my head, unable to return the smile. The tears came back. "I don't want to quit."

"That's good because we can't afford to lose you."

I looked down at my knee and he nudged me. "Hey."

The tears were flowing more freely now and I met his eyes. "Dad, he told me he wanted to die."

My father's face filled with compassion and he pulled me into a hug. Unashamed, I buried my face in his shoulder. "His hair was falling out, he had taken sleeping pills and he still couldn't sleep. He kept saying he couldn't breathe and his heart was pounding. We were 22000 miles above the Earth. I thought, this is it. He's going to have a heart attack and die right here."

My father pulled me tighter. "You got him home, John. He'll be okay. Like you said earlier, Gordon's one of the strongest spirits in this world. It'll take a lot more than this to break him."

I laughed and pulled back. "I don't think that's quite what I said."

My father smiled through his own tears. "Yes, well, that's my version of it."

I wiped the tears from my face. "I think I like your version better than the original."

My father stood up and helped me to my feet. I felt a lot better than I had in days. To be honest, I hadn't even realized how upset I had been until now. And with the anger gone, I realized that what I had accused my father of wasn't possible. Yes, he had screwed up, but he admitted to that. And he was right, I messed up too. But I knew my father didn't love Gordon any less than the rest of us. Not really. Sure, we all thought Scott was the favorite, but Gordon held a special place in my father's heart. Actually, we all did. He treated Gordon differently, but then, he treated us all differently. Gordon's personality was most like my mother's and it was something my father cherished. And I knew that.

I looked back at him. "Dad, I'm sorry I accused you of not caring about Gordon."

His own tears remained. "Does your brother really feel that way?"

I nodded. _I_ may have acknowledged that my father loved Gordon as he was, but I doubted Gordon did.

"I think he really believes that everyone likes him a little less because his interests are so different. Part of his nightmare was that the kid he was switched at birth with was able to talk about space at the dinner table, so everyone liked him better."

The hurt in my father's eyes was obvious. "When he wakes, I'll talk to him. I'll make sure he understands that he's irreplaceable and doesn't need to be anyone other than who he is. I'm fairly sure Scott will be having a similar conversation."

I winced. Wow, I really had messed with Scott's head.

With our conversation over, my father and I made our way out of the office. A sudden thought popped into my head. "Hey dad?"

He looked at me.

"Did you originally build Three for me and Five for Alan?"

The look of utter confusion on his face was comical. "What?" He shook his head. "I know you boys have each claimed one of the Thunderbirds as your own, but when they were built, they were built to fulfill their purpose in International Rescue. None of them were built with any one of you in mind."

I stopped walking. "Oh come on, dad. You're trying to tell me that you didn't have Gordon in mind when you built Four?"

My dad faced me. "I had Gordon helping with the plans for Four as I had you help with the plans for Three and Five, because you're both experts in those fields. But when Brains and I discussed what kinds of ships would be needed to make this operation successful, we designed the ships and their purpose based on that need alone. Who would pilot them never came into consideration. It was the five of you that decided each ship would have a primary pilot. In my conceptualization, each of you would be able to handle each ship with equal skill. I have since amended my original plan."

Huh... You learn something new every day.

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_There'll be LOTS of family in the next chapter- actually for the rest of the story. But Gordon will make an appearance in the next one as well, so hopefully you'll tune in for that. If you have some time, please review and let me know what you think. Thanks!_


	7. Virgil and Family

_Okay, here it is, chapter 7. Just like to reiterate the following points: _

_1- I have difficulties writing more than 2 characters at a time, which is why the issue resolving is a bit drawn out (I'm sorry about that)_

_2- Keep in mind that perceptions of things are not always correct_

_3- I aiming this story to be around 12 chapters long (okay, that's a new point, but good info...)_

_That's all. Thanks again for returning to read more. Seeing all those visitor counts totally makes my day! And thanks to all who review, including Whirlgirl and the anonymous person, who I can't reply to._

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_**Chapter 7: Virgil and Family-**_  
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I awoke the next morning to birds chirping outside my window. You would think after spending five months up in space, I'd be disoriented waking up at home. But the birds and the smell of the ocean were things that didn't exist up in space, so I never had to be worried about not knowing where I was. Plus, the bedrooms on Five had no windows, so it was a lot brighter here.

After a quick shower, I got dressed and made my way out into the hallway. The smell of bacon and coffee met my nose, making my mouth water. I noticed that Gordon's door was open once again, so I peeked in to see if he was still sleeping.

Virgil was seated in the lounge chair again and Gordon was back on his stomach. I was glad that he wasn't yet awake. With how long he'd been up, I was hoping he'd sleep for at least 24 hours. So far it had been 21.

Virg looked up at me as I entered the room. "Hey. How're you doing?"

I smiled and walked over to the bed. "Better."

He seemed relieved.

I took a good look at my younger brother as he slept. His face was turned to a different side than it had been yesterday and I noticed that he had lost some of his eyebrow and eyelashes. He appeared pale as well. I didn't remember ever hearing about eyelashes and eyebrows falling out...

"Virg, have you seen his eyebrow?"

"Yeah, and the lashes. Dad had Brains in here late last night to examine him. He said it wasn't usual, but given that he'd been through both emotional _and_ physical stress, it wasn't impossible. He's not growing new hair either."

I nodded; I already knew that.

Virgil continued. "Brains thinks Gordon will probably sleep 36-40 hours. Dad was concerned about the fact that he hasn't eaten in days. There was no sign of dehydration though and Brains thought it was more important for Gordon to sleep."

I was in agreement. Some of the lines on my brother's face had started to clear up and he finally looked relaxed.

"How're you and dad?"

I moved my attention to Virgil. "Okay. I've unquit."

He smiled. "Good. 'Cause I was thinking, if you quit, Alan'd have to be up there permanently, which means Tin Tin would want to move there permanently, and I wasn't sure how Kyrano and Grandma would feel about all the grandchildren being born up there."

I laughed. "Well everyone can relax. I'm back on duty. Alan and Tin Tin can parent their children here on Earth; if they ever actually get together that is..."

Virg rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Right?"

"So...what's up with you and Scott?"

As soon as I mentioned our older brother, Virgil's shoulders tensed up.

"Or should I just mind my own business?"

He took a deep breath. "It's between me and him."

I shrugged. "Okay, I was just wondering if you were switching teams too."

"Huh?" It's not often that you can catch Virgil confused.

I explained. "I was told by Gordon that you, Scott, and I were on one team and that he and Alan were on the other. Apparently, earlier this week, I turned coat. Now that you and Scott have split, I was just wondering if you wanted to join the other team."

He smiled. "You guys recruiting? It doesn't seem very nice for all of us to gang up against Scott, as much as I want to ram him with his own Thunderbird right now."

I shook my head at him. "Virgil, you're loyal to the end."

I received another grin. "I am, though the only team I knew about was the one that involved all five of us."

I smiled back at him. "Yeah, I was never aware I was on a split team either. The little ones think differently."

He smirked. "Well, I'm not sure Alan sees himself on Gordon's 'team'." Virgil squinted up at me. "Did you ever notice how remarkably similar Alan and Scott are?"

"Are we talking looks or personality, 'cause I've been told Alan and _I_ are similar..."

"That would be looks only... well, and astronomical interest. I think that you and I are the most similar in personality though. We're very level-headed."

I had to cover my mouth to keep from waking Gordon up with my laugh. Virgil rolled his eyes at my response. "I can be moody _and_ level-headed. I'm not saying we're the same, just similar. I'm aware that you're always Mr. Calm and I'm known for... "

"Being emotional?"

"I was going to say less restrained."

I snorted. "Yeah, Virg. You're a regular wild man."

"That's not what I meant. Stop busting my chops."

I let up on him. "Yeah, I know. You and I are both nerds and Scott and Alan are both hot-headed."

He nodded. "They uh..." He stopped and sucked in his lips. Uh oh.

"What?"

He looked at me with a 'don't get upset' look. That was never a good thing.

"They were both rather opinionated about Gordon not being able to finish the month on Five."

I could feel my adrenaline start pumping. I watched Gordon bust his ass, trying his best to complete the mission. He did everything he could. What the fuck was their issue?

"I dealt with it. I told both of them to get over themselves before Gordon woke up. He doesn't need their shit on top of everything."

"No, he really doesn't- and he'll be looking for it because he's expecting everyone to be disappointed in him."

Virgil stood up. "Well I guess it's the middle three versus the bookends then."

"I thought there were no teams," I teased.

He glared at me. "Don't piss me off. I've already fought with two brothers today. I've reached my quota."

His sudden anger caught me off-guard. I held up my hands. "I'm not looking for a fight either, okay?"

A moan from the bed had us both turning, the disagreement forgotten. We stood still, watching for further distress. Gordon shifted and rolled over, tangling the bedsheets around his legs. Now he was on his back, sprawled out across the bed. Red hair stuck to the left side of his face and the pillow. His face scrunched up and he threw his head back to the left...then the right...

I looked at Virgil. "Nightmare?"

He moved toward the bed as though studying our brother. Finally, he shook his head. "No, I think the hair on his face is bothering him."

How the hell could he tell that? "It looks like a nightmare to me."

My brother disagreed. "No, he's had two already. His breathing changes when he's having a nightmare. It becomes heavy and erratic. This is different."

Before I could argue, Virg had disappeared into the en-suite bathroom. He came out with a wet towel. Moving to the bed, he held the towel between his hands, warming it. Then he reached down and quickly wiped the hair from the side of Gordon's face. The eyelids flickered and for a moment I thought our brother would wake. Virgil paused in his ministrations. When nothing more happened, he brushed the loose hair off the pillow. With all the sheddings cleared, he stepped back.

We waited in silence to see what would happen. As it was, Gordon had stopped throwing his head back and forth. One minute later, he flipped again, back onto his stomach with his arms under the pillow.

I shook my head in disbelief. "How the hell do you do that?"

Virgil was brushing the fallen hair off his own shorts. "Do what?"

"Pay attention to every little detail and then know what they all mean."

He shot me a sly grin. "Maybe I'm psychic."

Right. "Yeah okay, Professor X. You want to grab some breakfast? I can sit with him."

"Nah. I actually only got here thirty minutes before you did. Dad slept in here and Scott was in early this morning. Alan stopped in for a visit while I was here, and then he left."

'And then he left'...code for: he stormed out after an argument. Another thought entered my head. "Did Gordon wake when he had the nightmares?"

Virg answered as he returned the towel to the bathroom. "No, I talked him down."

He made it sound so casual. When I tried it, it was extraordinarily awkward _and _it didn't work.

My stomach grumbled and Virgil hit it as he walked past. "Go eat. We're good here."

Making my way to the door, I asked, "You want me to bring you anything?"

"No, I'm told Tin Tin will be in here soon, more than likely with Alan in tow, so I'll be joining you."

"Okay, see you there." With a wave, I left the room.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTB

I had actually finished my breakfast before Virgil came in for his, so I didn't get a chance to speak with him further. I decided to spend the rest of my morning monitoring the airwaves. Five may have been on automatic and screening for distress calls on it's own, but that didn't mean there weren't emergencies out there that no one had called in. Luckily, Brains had programmed Five so that when it was on auto, we could pick up the satellite feeds on the island. Gordon was right, technically, we didn't need anyone up on Five. We preferred someone up there though. There was a ten second delay in receiving the feeds on the island due to the fact that they had to go through Five first, so when IR was called out, communications went a lot faster if someone was actually up in Five to respond.

The Madagascar threat was still there; the volcano was billowing ash, but had yet to erupt. There was an earthquake in the Ukraine, but the government had it under control. A ninety person mass suicide was being cleaned up in Denmark. Cults are scary, scary things... Other than that though, there really wasn't too much going on- at least not on our level. I fished through different frequencies the rest of the morning, but there was nothing more to be found.

Around noon, I stepped out of my father's office and into one of the greatest smells on the planet- lobster rolls. I practically skipped to the table.

Being one of the first ones there, I helped my Kyrano put out the food and the place settings. By the time we were finished, everyone but Gordon and my grandmother were seated and diving in. I took my spot and joined them.

"Oh my God, this is good."

Kyrano smiled at me. "Thank you. I am pleased you like it."

I noticed that no one else was chiming in... In fact, no one was talking at all. It was odd for us, usually when we're at a meal together, you can't get two words in; there's at least three conversations going on at once.

I looked at Virgil to see what he was thinking, but he was focused on his food. My eyes moved over one; Scott appeared equally fixated. Well, that wasn't shocking considering the two of them weren't speaking and Scott wasn't all that pleased with me either. Alan also had his head down. Tin Tin was looking up, but the expression on her face indicated that she was afraid to break the tense silence.

I searched out my father. He met my eyes and clearly had been thinking the same as me. He cleared his throat. "So, anything we need to be aware of on the airwaves?"

The room tensed from the sudden interruption of the quiet. I shook my head. "No, nothing that we can really help with."

Dad looked disappointed, but nodded his understanding. The silence resumed. I ate my roll, not enjoying it as much as I would've liked. The fissures in the family were dulling the taste.

"No, grandma, I got it. Really. No, really, I'm good. Look, see? Oh I see, you want me to help _you_. Well, okay. I can carry you if you really want..."

All the heads at the table suddenly whipped up at the sounds of our missing family members entering the room. Gordon, with bloodshot eyes, half of an eyebrow, no lashes, and hair so thin his scalp was entirely visible, was being whacked by my grandmother. Apparently, he was trying to pick her up.

"Gordon, you put..." _whack, whack, whack, _"...put me down."

He laughed and let her go. Striding his way to the table, he sat down with a smile. "Good morning! Or is it afternoon?"

My father smiled back. "Just noon now, son. How are you feeling?"

Gordon sighed and combed his fingers through his hair. "A little ti-" He stopped, staring at the strands that were now in his hand. "Uh, forgot about that. Um, hang on, I'll be right back."

With that, he stood up and exited about as quickly as he had entered. My grandmother sat next to my dad. "He seems to be in good spirits." She gave my father a look. "He was dizzy when he got up; I was a little worried but he seems to have righted himself."

"Uh, my guess, Mrs. Tracy, is that, uh, he's dizzy from low blood sugar."

My father nodded. "I agree, Brains. Kyrano, do we have anything bland to start him on?"

Kyrano bowed. "I will make something now, Mr. Tracy." And he left for the kitchen.

Despite the distraction, we resumed our meal of silence after his departure.

A few minutes later, Gordon came back in, completely devoid of hair. All of it. None on his head, the half eyebrow was gone, no lashes, no facial hair, nothing. He sat back down in his seat.

I couldn't help but stare. He looked...really weird. I had seen his hair buzzed for the Olympics and his time with WASP, but this was completely different. The no eyebrows or lashes thing, along with the red eyes, was really freaky. He looked around, suddenly realizing that everyone was gaping at him.

He smiled. "Wish I knew about this eight years ago. I could've just gone up in space and saved myself a lot of pain and money in wax."

We all chuckled and continued our meal. He was referring to when he had to wax his body for the Olympics. The suit he wore was designed for least resistance, but as he once put it, there was no point in having a state-of-the-art suit if your arm hair was going to slow you down. Speaking of, I checked out his arms as he tapped the table, yep, no hair.

"Gordon, Kyrano's making you something bland to start with. John's told us you weren't able to eat anything on Five."

I tensed at my father's words. I wasn't sure how Gordon was going to take it. To be honest, I wasn't sure how Gordon felt about me bringing him home. Last I spoke with him coherently, he wanted to see the month out.

Hesitantly, I looked over and found my brother looking back at me. He smirked, "Not true, I ate some powdered eggs."

How was he so cheerful?

"Didn't I, John?"

"You did."

Gordon turned back to our father. "See?"

Dad looked confused, but before he could question it, Gordon let him off the hook. "Oh, you meant food that I ate _and_ digested. Oh, yeah, no, there really wasn't any of that. Just some ginger ale."

Scott let out a snort. "You definitely seem like yourself to me."

Our hairless brother grinned. "Thanks, Scott."

My eldest brother nodded and took another bite of his sandwich.

"You're not going to say it?"

I turned back to Gordon as Scott answered him with his mouth full. "Say what?"

He rolled his eyes and waved an arm in exasperation. "Come on, Scotty. I practically floated that one to you."

"What?"

Gordon sighed and brought up his hands as puppets. "You say, 'you seem like yourself to me'. Then I say, 'thanks'. Then you say, 'that wasn't a compliment'. Then we all laugh. Come on now. It's not that hard. I handed you that one. Work with me."

Poor Scott. He didn't know if he was coming or going. He had me pissed at him for putting Gordon down and Gordon annoyed with him because he was _not_ making fun of him. I had to admit though, the look on Scott's face, with half a sandwich hanging out of his mouth was pretty funny.

"Here, Mr. Gordon. I make this for you. Nice chicken broth with some rice."

My brother thanked Kyrano as he set the bowl down in front of him.

"Gordon, I was going to save this for tomorrow, but since you seem to be recovered enough to tease your brother, I'd like to debrief with you about what happened on Five."

The smile faded from my brother's face and he became serious. "Yes, Father."

"I've already heard a lot of it from John, but I'd like to speak with you and get your version of what happened."

Gordon swallowed and nodded. I tried to catch his eye, but he wasn't looking at me. Instead, he was looking at the soup. He was thinking about something, but I couldn't tell what.

"Is it not good?"

Looking up with a start, Gordon shook his head at Kyrano's question. "No, sorry. I mean, I haven't tried it yet."

He picked up the spoon and I suddenly noticed that his hand was shaking... badly. Dipping into the bowl, he brought the liquid up to his mouth. I would say more than half of the liquid in the spoon spilled out before it reached its destination. He smiled at Kyrano. "It's great. Thank you."

Looking around the table, I noticed everyone else had stopped eating and were staring worriedly at my brother. Oblivious, Gordon continued in his tremulous attempt to feed himself. After the third spoonful, he put the silverware down and rubbed his forehead.

"Gordon?"

Ignoring my father, his hands moved from his forehead to his eyes.

"Gordon."

This time, dad put a hand on his shoulder. My brother's hands dropped and I could see how tired he still looked. He shook his head as if to wake himself. "Sorry." Looking at my dad, he added, "I'm not very hungry still. Do you want to just go over everything now?"

Something wasn't right with him. I could feel it in my bones and based on the expressions on the other's faces, they felt it too. My father frowned. "Are you still nauseous?"

Gordon shook his head.

"Well, then I'd like you to eat more, son."

My brother didn't look too happy, but he did as he was told. He made it through eight more quivering spoonfuls before he turned the same shade of green I had seen on my ship. This time I didn't wait to see what would happen. I jumped up, got the blue cleaning bucket from the cabinet and thrust it under my brother's chin. I made it just in time. He grabbed the bucket, turned to the side, and rapidly began vomiting. The thud of the expelled liquid hitting the side of the bucket made me recoil. God, I felt so bad for him. At least here though, he could get help...and he could sleep.

My father had gotten up and knelt next to my brother, rubbing his back. Scott was on his feet, but didn't seem to know what to do with himself. Everyone else just looked on, uneasy.

Scott turned to Brains. "Brains, do you think it's a virus?"

"It's not, uh, likely. The stomach virus is, uh, highly contagious and no one else has, got, gotten sick. Sometimes the body has a, uh, hard time reorienting from one en, environment to a, a,another."

"He's also been under extreme stress and his body's probably still in survival mode, which means not a lot of blood's being routed to the stomach."

"Yes, uh, Virgil's correct. It may be days before he, uh, is able to keep something down."

My father was whispering to Gordon, who had stopped puking by this point. "Why didn't you tell me you were nauseous when I asked you?"

Gordon shook his head, keeping it down. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

With a sigh, my father pushed himself to his feet. "We're going back to your room and you and I are going to have a talk. I think some things need to be cleared up."

My brother spit into the bucket and then looked up. "Is it okay if I have some water first? I'm thirsty."

I could tell by the look of distress on his face that my dad was bothered by the way Gordon had asked that. It sounded as though he was asking for permission to have water. "Of course you c...Scott, can you-"

"I've got it right here." My grandmother seemed to have appeared from nowhere. She handed Gordon a tall glass of water. "Here you go, dear."

His hand gripped it and shook. I could see what was going to happen, but was too slow to stop it. My father though, his reflexes were amazing. He caught the glass when it was about a foot off the ground.

"I'm sorry."

Dad didn't respond, just pushed the glass back into my brother's hand and helped him lift it to his lips. Over Gordon's head, I could see him having a silent talk with Brains. From my angle, I could only see Brains responses, which were mostly yeses and nos, so I had no idea what the conversation was about.

Finally, Gordon, ceased his drinking with half a glass to go. "Dad? I'm sorry. I'm still really tired."

My father nodded and pulled Gordon into a standing position as he stood up himself. "All right, let's get you back to bed."

They started to walk to the hallway, but as Gordon passed me, he broke off from my father and engulfed me in a hug. "Thank you, John."

Taken by surprise, I stumbled back. "For what?"

"I really hate space."

Oh, okay. So I guess he wasn't mad about me taking him home then. "I thought you might be mad; I made you come home."

He pulled back. "Made me come home? I...I...John, I couldn't...I was just...I mean, look at me."

I did. Hairless and pale, with red eyes. I could see his point...and dad was right, I should have reported his condition and got Gordon home earlier.

He hugged me again. "I am so grateful to you, I can't even tell you. I love you so much right now."

I cringed and pushed him off me. "Okay, let's not get crazy."

"I mean it. Anything you want that I have, it's yours."

Well, that was a dangerous statement to make... I raised my brows. "No pranks on me for the rest of my life."

"Done."

He was serious. Holy shit, he was completely serious. That, more than anything, scared the crap out of me. I mean, he really, seriously, was willing to forgo pranking me forever because he was so happy that I got him off of Five. It may not seem like a big deal, but trust me, it is a HUGE deal.

I took back what I said. "I don't really want that. I was just testing you."

"Well, I mean it. Anything you want-"

"I don't want anything. I just want you to be okay. That's it. I don't want anything else. Just be okay." That really was all I wanted. I just wanted to put this whole thing behind us. Besides, my father was rich, I didn't need- or want- any of Gordon's things.

He nodded. "Okay."

"Good."

With that, he turned and left the room, my father and grandmother in tow.

As soon as they were gone, I noticed Alan and Brains fled the table, traveling in two different directions.

"I am surprised that you did not hold Gordon to your request. He seemed to be serious about not pranking you."

I returned to my seat as I answered Tin Tin. "As much as I hate it, I think I'd feel left out if I weren't in on all the prankings."

My remaining brothers both snorted. Then Virgil added, "No one said anything about _you_ not pranking _him_. Think about it, you'd have permanent immunity. You could do whatever you want to him and he wouldn't be able to do anything back."

I pushed the sandwich away from me. After the puke-fest, it was no longer appealing. "Somehow, I think he'd find a loophole. Something along the lines of Alan..."

Virg sneered, "Yeah, if they're still close after this."

"What do you mean?" Both Scott and Tin Tin spoke in unison, looking surprised.

My brother just shook his head. "Nothing."

He stood up with his plate and went to clear it in the kitchen. Suddenly, I realized that I was practically alone with Scott. I was tired of arguing with people; time to make a run for it. Quickly, I picked up my own plate and made a bee-line for the kitchen. I got half-way there before my father and grandmother returned to the room. Curious, I ceased my hasty exit.

Scott looked puzzled as well. "You're back?"

My grandmother took my dish and began helping Kyrano clear the table as my father resumed his seat. "He kicked us out. He found it quote, 'ridiculous, embarrassing, and a waste of time' for someone to watch him sleep."

Yep, that sounded about right. Well, at least he was feeling better.

"I've asked Brains to consult with some specialists; I may be taking him to a doctor."

I stiffened. I truly hadn't expected that. "What...How..." I didn't even know what to ask. How would my father explain what happened to a doctor? It's not like he could tell them that Gordon freaked out after being sent into space as part of International Rescue...

"Father, what did you plan to tell them?" Clearly, Scott was better articulated than I was.

Sucking in a deep breath, my father's expression grew determined. "If Brains feels it's necessary to take him somewhere, there will be no disinformation. The doctors Brains is contacting should be trustworthy. I'd also like your brother to feel comfortable speaking to someone if he'd like to."

Therapy. Huh. Made sense. I mean, he'd clearly interpreted his time on Five as a traumatic experience, and he _was_ having nightmares about it. His hair had fallen out... Yeah, I could see why my dad was thinking therapy might be a good thing. I doubted my brother would go though. He never went after the accident, not even when things were really bad. Still, it was nice of my dad to give him the option, making it easy for him to go if he wanted.

Scott questioned it. "Father, that's a huge security risk, isn't it? I mean, we've always avoided bringing in outside professionals-"

"If Gordon needs to see someone, then he should be allowed to, without you judging him."

I jumped at the voice that came from behind me. I had no idea that Virgil had re-entered the room.

"I'm not judging him-"

"Oh, you are."

Scott stood up, glaring at the man behind me. "No, I am _not_. I'm just wondering if we couldn't try to handle it internally first."

"Well, considering how supportive everyone is being, yeah, I think that'll work really well. But you're right, Scott. IR's secrecy is way more important than Gordon's health. I don't know what _I _was thinking valuing my brother over IR's clandestineness."

My father stood up with his arms out, preventing Scott's rebuttal. "That's enough. Scott is right that IR's security has to be considered. But to be honest, I have been thinking about this for a while now. Brains is highly competent in the medical field, but there may be times in the future where specialists are needed...whatever their discipline may be. In those cases, I will not place any of your lives in jeopardy by impeding your treatment- be it by fabricating a story or physically preventing you from seeing the doctor you need. Brains and I have been gathering information and are considering contracting with one of the top hospitals in the world to give us access to confidential treatment whenever necessary."

Scott sat, the stunned expression on his face matching my own. I had no idea that my father had been considering that. It made complete sense. I mean, yes, it was a risk, but if it was a top hospital, it was considerably less likely that they'd breach confidentiality. The damage to their own reputation wouldn't be worth it. Not to mention, they'd give up getting paid very well by my dad...

With the room silenced, my father resumed his seat. "Nothing is definite yet, we'll wait to see what Brains says. I_ will_ be offering Gordon the option to speak to someone though. And that option is always open to any of you. There's no shame in it; you boys are under a lot of stress, you face death regularly, you've watched people- men, women, children- die. If any of you ever feel that you'd like to talk to a professional, that door is open to you. And I'll expect each of you to support each other in that decision, without extending judgment."

I nodded my agreement, seeing my brothers do the same.

Dad sighed. "Good." He looked down at the half-eaten sandwich in front of him and grimaced. "I seem to have lost my appetite..." I knew the feeling. "...I'll be in my office if anyone needs me."

He got up; Scott got up; Virgil left for the hall; Scott left for the patio; and dad left for his office. Rocking back on my heels, I looked down at my grandmother. "Need any help?"

* * *

_Next chapter will feature John (well obviously), Gordon, and Alan... Lots of Alan... More Scott and Virgil in chapter 9._

_If you get a chance, I'd love to hear from you!_


	8. Alan

_Thanks again to everyone for coming back to read more! And Whirlgirl- thank you so much for that long review. And Overkalix, I thought I figured out how to review reply to you, but now I'm worried you didn't get it. I hope you did!  
_

_Here's chapter 8! It's on the long side (I'm sure you don't mind)._

_**Warning: Sexual innuendos. Nothing explicit, but definite implications...**  
_

_

* * *

_**Chapter 8: Alan-**_  
_

The rest of the day was pretty quiet...and boring. I went for a dip in the pool- I think it was the first time in my life that I was in that pool by myself. I seriously can't remember another time that was the case. At one point Alan passed by looking like he was going to go for a swim, but as soon as he saw me, he scampered back inside. I got the feeling he was avoiding me. Best guess was that when Virgil chewed Alan out, he mentioned that I also would not want to hear whatever it was that Alan had said.

Speaking of Virgil, I was dying to know what the fight between him and Scott was about. The way they were at lunch- I had never seen them like that. I mean, they had fought before, but this was like every time Scott opened his mouth, Virgil was ready to attack. I knew some of it involved Virgil defending either me or Gordon...or both, but there was definitely more to it.

And Scott, I still had to talk to him. I still needed to apologize to him for getting on his case about what he said to Gordon. At this point, I honestly believed him that his intentions and his words weren't matching up. Plus, there was the fact that _Gordon,_ the guy I was defending, wasn't actually upset. But then I'd have to endure Scott's ranting about whatever it was I did that pissed him off. Cursing in front of grandma was it? That was Virgil's thought, but Scott could've been mad about anything. The point was that he was angry, and I was still worn out from my multiple arguments with dad. I just wanted to relax.

Dinner had been as uncomfortable as lunch, only worse because we didn't have Gordon as a distraction. Brains and father had decided to give Gordon more time before bringing him to a doctor. Apparently the specialists that Brains had talked to felt that time at home with his family, would be the best thing for him. I was relieved to hear it because I totally agreed.

With our wordless dinner behind me, I was now in my room going through the 82 new emails I had received in the past two days. Five were from women I had been corresponding with for months now. One in particular, Eliska, lived in Prague, and I really wanted to see her. I couldn't say anything to her yet though, I hadn't spoken to my father about whether I'd be staying down here or going back up.

I clicked open the picture she sent me and stared at it. My blood stirred as I looked at her plump lips. I could almost feel them sliding-

_Knock, knock, knock_

In a flash I had the browser closed and my legs crossed ankle to knee. Luckily, I hadn't been too far into that little fantasy...

"What?"

My hands were shaking from the adrenaline, so I took a deep breath. There were too many freakin' people in this house. One great thing about being alone in space- no chance of ever being interrupted. Of course, I'm sure Gordon would be pointing out that up there all activities would have to be completed, uh, solo, but in reality, the only one who had a shot of doing things 'interactively' on this island was Alan and he didn't seem to taking advantage of it.

The door answered me. "It's Gordon, can I come in?"

Gordon? I hadn't been expecting that. I looked at the clock: 10:30 pm. He must have just woken up. "Yeah, come in."

The door opened, and my brother stepped in looking about as well as the last time I'd seen him. He shut the door behind him and sat on the bed, wrinkling my beige duvet.

"How are you feeling?"

He was looking at his hands again. "A little better. Well, actually, a lot better than yesterday...it was yesterday, right?"

I was confused. "What was?"

"When you brought me home?"

Oh. "Oh. Yeah. That was yesterday."

He looked over at me, his right foot bouncing his leg- and the bed- up and down. "Hey John, can I talk to you?"

"As opposed to what we're doing now?"

"I wanted to, um, talk to you about Alan."

Alan? Uh oh. Alan must have said something to Gordon. At 24 years old, you'd think Alan would be a little more mature, but being the baby of the family has had its advantages for him. Growing up didn't seem to be high on his priority list. Still, he _was _24. Time to stop being a brat and stop idolizing Gordon. The idea that Gordon was an imperfect human was probably a novel concept for Alan.

"Are you really mad at him?"

Huh? My attention went back to Gordon. "What?"

"Alan thinks you're mad at him. He told me you blame him for what happened with me on Five."

What the hell? My jaw fell open. Where the hell had that come from? "I haven't even spoken to Alan since we got home."

Gordon nodded. "I know. He said you're avoiding him. Are you?"

I felt like I was insane. I shook my head and dropped my foot to the floor. "No! _He's_ been avoiding _me._ Now I know why, although I have no idea how he came to the conclusion that I blame him. Alan never even entered into my mind. Where the hell-"

"So you're not avoiding him then?"

"No!"

Gordon seemed to consider this, furrowing his hairless brow. God, he looked so weird.

I shook the thought from my head. "The only one I'm avoiding right now is Scott."

My brother looked back up, confused. "Scott? What'd Scott do?"

"I don't know. I just know he's pissed at me and I don't feel like hearing it."

With a bewildered expression and his leg still bouncing, Gordon stared at me. "So let me get this straight. Scott's mad at you, Virgil's mad at Scott, you're mad at dad, dad's mad at me, and Alan thinks your mad at him, but you're really not."

I sifted through that. "Uh...yeah, sounds about right. Well, except that I'm not mad at dad anymore and I'm not sure that he's _really_ mad at you either."

Gordon put a hand to his head and flopped back onto the bed. "This is too confusing."

I agreed.

"So you're not mad at dad?"

"Not anymore, we had a long talk. Have you talked to him yet?"

My brother shook his head. "No. He wanted to talk before but I couldn't keep my eyes open." He turned his head on the bed and grinned at me. "Did you really curse him out and make him cry?"

My eyes squinted at his smile. "I did not make him cry."

His eyes went back to the ceiling, a smug look on his face. "That's not what I heard..."

He continued before I could question him. "I heard you screamed at him and cursed him out in front of grandma. Then you quit IR and when you left the room he bawled like a baby."

What was scary was, until that last part, that was all true. And technically, I really didn't know what happened after I had stormed out. However, I could not for the life of me picture my dad 'bawling like a baby'. "Gords, you seriously think dad was 'bawling like a baby'?"

He shrugged. "Alan does have a penchant for the dramatic..." Pulling himself up by his abs only, he sat up and pointed at me. "He doesn't lie though. So you at least made him cry."

Okay, enough of this. "Dad and I are fine. The issue's over and I've since _un_quit."

My brother looked relieved and the leg resumed it's bounce. "Oh good. What's up with Scott and Virg? Alan said the tension's so thick you could cut it with a knife."

I snorted. "I think it'd be a good idea to leave knives out of it."

"Wow. That bad, huh?"

"I don't know what it's about. I'm not even totally sure when it started. I know you or I...or both of us have been used as ammo at various points, but whatever the real issue is, they're keeping it quiet." I moved to change the subject. "What about you and Alan?"

After what Virgil had said this morning, I was apprehensive about how the conversation between my younger siblings had gone. I was especially worried about Alan telling Gordon that he'd lost respect for him.

Gordon sighed and leaned his head on his fist, elbow on his left knee. "I'm worried about Alan. He's really upset."

Oookay. Not what I was thinking... "Upset about what?"

"I told you, he thinks what happened with me on Five was his fault- and that you agree."

What the hell...I was clearly missing something. "Gords, back it up for me. Why and how would any of what happened be Alan's fault?"

"He said that when you were chewing out dad, you said that my training and preparation was inadequate and that it was incompetent and recon...reco..."

"Reprehensible?"

"Right. Reprehensible that I was approved to do a month on Five."

I was a little annoyed that Alan had told Gordon I said that. I would've preferred if he hadn't heard the details of that conversation. Still, I wasn't going to lie. I had said that, and I still believed that. "Not in those exact words, well, other than the incompetent and reprehensible part, but yes, I did say that. But I was saying that to dad. What's that got to do what Alan?"

Gordon looked at me as though it was obvious. "John, Alan was the one who trained me."

Ohhhh. I froze. I so had not ever put all that together. I wasn't even thinking of Alan when I was tearing a hole into dad. I considered my father responsible for the whole thing- not Alan. But I could see now, from Alan's point of view, how he had interpreted that differently.

"Not only that, but father had asked Alan for final approval on my readiness. Alan gave the okay to send me up."

I didn't know any of that. I didn't know what to say.

Gordon went on. "He feels like shit, John. I was the only person he ever trained at anything. Scott's trained everyone in flight, I've covered all the sea trainings, you've done the direct training on Five, Virgil and Brains do all the medical and mechanical trainings, with Alan being the youngest, he never got to do any instruction. But now he's an expert on Three and Five, and I'm _so_ not, so he took it upon himself to teach me and get me ready. And dad of course embraced his initiative with the whole thing."

He looked at me. "I know it sounds ridiculous. It does a bit to me too, but Alan took his roll as my instructor _very _seriously. More seriously than I ever even realized. I mean, I didn't really get it either. But as far as I can tell, in his mind, this was an initiation or a right of passage for him. Like if he successfully taught me something, he was in with the rest of us as a certified expert and instructor instead of being the little brother who's good at some stuff."

I went to speak, but Gordon stopped me, holding up a hand. "Oh, it gets worse. Ready to be annoyed with dad again?"

Not really.

"The day I went up, dad tells Alan," Gordon put on his 'dad' voice. "You've done a great job preparing your brother, son. I was thinking it'd be good for Tin Tin to start training with Three. Would you be willing to oversee that?"

I'd bet my father was hoping all that alone time would finally spark something...

"Alan got all excited." Gords gave me a look. "I'm sure in more ways than he was willing to share with me."

I smirked.

"He started training her Monday. Today dad called him into his office and pulled the plug."

The grin fell from my face. No wonder Alan was so upset. I doubted my father had pulled the plug because he didn't feel Alan was a good instructor. More likely, my father- or Kyrano- had seen the state Gordon was in and didn't want history to repeat itself with Tin Tin. After all, Tin Tin had almost _no_ experience with that kind of mental and physical stress.

"Gords, you know that probably had nothing to do with Alan-"

"I know. Dad's probably hesitant to send anyone new into space after my nervous breakdown."

"Did you tell Alan that?"

He nodded and suddenly stopped vibrating. "Yeah. I tried. Um, can I...I feel horrible saying this..."

I waited. It was very unusual for my care-free brother to be so tongue tied. He was breathing pretty fast; it reminded me of what he was like on Five. "Gords, what?"

"I...I can't say it. It...I..."

"Yeah, well, say it anyway 'cause you're freakin' me out. And do me a favor and calm down too. Whatever it is, it's fine."

He looked sheepish. "I'm being a jerk."

Oye, I wished he would just get on with it. It was like pulling teeth. "Gordon, out with it."

"You're going to have to talk to Alan anyway, you know, to clear up the whole thing about you being mad at him."

"Riiight..."

"Well...you think you could help him get over this?"

What? "Huh? You mean other than telling him nobody's mad at him and he made this all up in his head?"

Gordon shrugged, but wouldn't look at me. "However. I just...I'm having a hard time and I can't really...I can't...I mean I'm worried about him now and I can't..."

I caught on. Gordon was trying to recover from a traumatic experience, he didn't need Alan's crap on top of it. "I'll take care of it. Consider Alan off your plate."

He swung his head in my direction. "I don't want to sick him on you either. I mean, you haven't had an easy week yourself. You were cursing dad out and acting impulsively, which just tells me that having to deal with me really got to you. Plus, you must be well past your tolerance for whiny little brothers."

I smiled. "Well, some irk me more than others."

He looked concerned. "That gives me a 50/50 shot at being the one who doesn't irk you."

"I didn't say either of you _didn't_ irk me, I just said one irks me _more _than the other."

After a moment of no response, I cut him a break. "Don't worry about it. I have a plan to motivate Alan to get past this. And if all else fails, I'll send Virgil in."

Gordon nodded and resumed studying his hands. Now _that_ habit was really starting to bug me... "Is Virg...disappointed with me?"

"Not even remotely. I mean, I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that Virg has been your biggest supporter since I brought you home. I think he really understands how difficult things were. He holds _no_ judgment on you."

My brother looked relieved. "What about Scott?"

Good question... Virgil had indicated that Scott wasn't being understanding, but then Virgil had also given incorrect information about Alan's issues, so he wasn't exactly a reliable source of info. "I have no idea, I haven't spoken to him since I got here."

Gordon laughed. "Right, right, you've been avoiding him. I forgot. What about dad?"

I sighed. "Father feels really guilty. I don't know how much Alan told you about what I said to dad, but I pretty much ripped him a new one for sending you up without having given you any of the physicals or stress tests. And I was right...and he knows it. So he's taking heavy blame. He's also handed some of the blame to me and you for not being upfront regarding your condition during any of the check-ins, which he is right to do. I tried, as your brother, to protect you from being called back and feeling like a failure, but I absolutely should have let father know what was happening. I should have taken you home two days ago, but I blurred the family/IR line."

"John, there is no line. It's the same thing."

I disagreed. "That's not-"

"Yes it is. Can you honestly picture yourself being a solid member of the family and _not_ being in IR?"

Nope, I had briefly tried to picture that when I thought I wouldn't be able to unquit. I couldn't see how I could still be part of the family without being in IR.

"It was something I thought about a lot when I was hurt. Trust me, there's no separation of family and IR. It is one being."

A laugh escaped me. "How very zen of you."

He leaned in and put a hand on my knee. "John, thank you for giving me the shot. It sucked; I could've done without the insanity and feeling like I was going to die, but I _know_ now that I can't do a month on Five. If you'd have brought me home even a day earlier, I would've wondered...and possibly tried again. I can tell you right now, I don't care who's disappointed or how bad Alan feels, there is _no way_ I'm trying that again."

"There's no way I'm letting you."

"I mean, okay, if for some strange reason you, or Alan, or whoever, is trapped up there and I have to fly Three to save you and then we all get trapped there, then I'll do it. But unless somebody's _dying_ or something catastrophic has happened to the family, I'm never sleeping on that ship again."

I raised a brow. "Gordon, you never slept on Five. That was the issue."

He shot me a look. "You know what I mean- no longer than a four hour visit."

I was thinking even _entering_ space was out of the question but before I could respond, he turned serious again. "Thank you. For everything. Really. I meant what I said before but it's not just about you taking me home. Thank you for listening to me and talking to me and giving me your bed and worrying about me and hugging me even though you despise that..."

I laughed. "You're welcome. Now get off me."

He smiled and pulled his hand back. "Really, John. Thank you. Thank you for helping me do my best up there and thank you for bringing me home."

Despite my disdain for it, I put my hand on his shoulder. "Gordon, you're welcome. It's not something you need to thank me for. You've done all of that for me in the past...in different scenarios. And it wasn't 'dealing with you' that got to me. It was watching you suffer." I stood up. "I meant what I said before, I just want you better. All this worrying is cramping my style. So just concentrate on getting better."

Looking down at him, I added. "And don't think you can fool us with your cavalier act this time. That hair's not going to grow back until you're really okay."

He scowled. "Damn."

With a grin, I pointed to the door. "I don't suppose you're hungry?"

He rolled his eyes while standing up. "I think I'm gonna go talk to dad now."

Still smiling, I watched him walk out the door. Once he left, I looked back at the clock: 11:15. Time to hunt down Alan.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTB

He wasn't hard to find. The first place I looked, I hit the jackpot. He was in his room; sitting on the floor, and organizing the pile of books he had stacked against the wall. The door was open, but I knocked anyway. "Hey. Can we talk?"

He gave me an odd look. "Gordon spoke to you, didn't he?"

I nodded, closed the door, and sat on his bed. "Good thing he did because you and I are not of like mind."

I determined the expression on his face to be some mix of anxiety and anger. I didn't know what the anger was about and frankly I didn't care. I had a plan here and I was hoping to make this a short conversation. "When I was yelling at dad, I was yelling at _dad_. I didn't even consider you. Gordon's actual simulator training was perfect. Like I told you, he flew Five in a LEO orbit independently-"

"But you didn't think he was prepared to be up there."

"No, I didn't and I still don't. But it wasn't your actual training of him, it was the training schedule and process...as well as the general fact that he was forced up there for no reason against his will."

Standing up, Alan began waving his hands emphatically as he spoke. "John, _I_ was in charge of training him! _I _was the one who set up his training schedule!" I ducked a hand as he went on. "_I_ was the one who told dad that he was fully prepared and ready to go."

"Okay, so you were wrong. Congratulations, Alan, you get to share in the blame. Dad's taken some, I've taken some, Gordon's accepting his now, how do you want yours? You want me to present it in a medal to you? It can say, 'I contributed to the nervous breakdown of Gordon Tracy'. If you'd prefer, I can have a t-shirt made..."

Rage blazed in his eyes. "This isn't a joke, John. This was my shot to show dad-"

In a flash I had him pinned against the wall. "This isn't about you!"

He stared at me, wide-eyed and startled. I eased up on my grip just a little. "You selfish little brat. You're always complaining that we treat you like a baby. You want to prove that you're grown up and a fully competent member of this team. Well let me give you a little hint. Gordon is sick. He is. Things are better because he's home, but in case you haven't noticed, he's got no hair, he can't keep any food down, and he's having nightmares. He's trying to recover from a trauma and he's scared. He's still afraid of space and he's afraid that everyone's disappointed in him. All the things you're thinking about yourself, no one's thinking about you. But Gordon's thinking it about himself and he feels like shit. And you know what he doesn't need on top of all of it? You! Whining to him and telling him how he let you down by not being able to get over his fear of space."

"I never said that he let me down."

I released him from the wall. "Well what the hell do you think he thinks? I mean, God, Alan! This isn't about _you_! You trained him, so what? So did I. This is about Gordon. _Gordon_ is the one who couldn't complete the mission. You want to show everyone how grown up you are? Then start acting like it. Gordon needs help and support right now. He can't be your big brother for you. You need one, you've got three more. But if I were you, I'd get over your own failure crap and be there for Gordon."

We both backed away from each other and I lowered my voice. "He needs your help, Al. The two of you are really close and I've been doing my best for him, but I'm not exactly the comforting type."

He sneered, "That's for damn sure."

I let that one go. "My point is that Gordon's been big brother to you your whole life. He's always been there for you. You want to play big brother, well, here's your shot."

A glare was shot in my direction. "I've been there for him too. I called him everyday and came to visit him every chance I got when he was in the hospital."

There was no way he could possibly be that stupid- or egotistical.

He saw the look on my face and knew his argument wasn't convincing. "I offered to take the semester off, he didn't want me to."

"Okay. We're talking about how to be the big brother here? You _offered_ to take the semester off. Scott just opted out of a second tour in the Air Force. He didn't ask Gordon for his opinion. He just did what he thought would be best for his family." Actually, that wasn't _entirely_ true. Scott was thinking about leaving the Air Force anyway to help dad and Virg run IR, but Gordon's accident did tip the scale for him.

Alan looked like he was on the verge of tears. "So you're saying I should've taken the semester anyway. I guess, since I didn't finish..."

Okay, somewhere I had gone from motivating to disparaging. Let's try to backtrack... "No, that's not what I'm saying. You were nineteen at the time. And you _should_ have been in college. Gordon had enough people with him to get him through everything. I'm trying to talk to you about now, Al. Gordon's shaken and he needs to _know_, not hope, _know_ that you don't respect him any less because he freaked."

"I don't respect him any less at all."

"Well, then, you should make sure he knows that. And leave your own shit out of it. He's got enough to handle. Try _taking_ some of the burden rather than adding to it."

"I didn't realize that he... I wouldn't have... He was acting like himself and joking around. I just thought now that he was home he was okay."

I sighed. "It's Gordon. Unless he physically or emotionally can't do it, he'll always act like everything's fine. You know he's always upbeat. That doesn't mean he's really okay."

My younger brother nodded and I could tell I got through. Now that that was out of the way, I could address Alan's own issue. "Gords told me that dad pulled you off training Tin Tin. I could talk to him for you, but I think it'd be good if you talked to him yourself about it."

Alan shook his head and sat down. "No. I already tried. He doesn't trust my training or opinion anymore."

"Actually, I think it's more that he doesn't trust his own training or opinion. You did the direct training and gave your recommendation, but father was the one who designed the training schedule and _he_ was the one who made the final decision. I think he's realized now that he was lucky with the rest of us, that we didn't have a bad reaction. He needs to set up more precautionary measures and tests before anyone else is sent into space. I don't think this was a permanent stop to the training, it's probably just temporary until new procedures are in place."

Looking up at me, my brother seemed to be listening to what I was saying. "So, if I were going to talk to him again, what would be a good way to approach it?"

I smiled. He was much calmer and more reasonable now. I'm not great with comforting, but calming and focusing people- that I do well. "I would just tell him that you understand his reservations and you understand that modifications need to be made to how members of IR are prepared for space travel, but you would appreciate it if you could be involved with the planning of those modifications, even if only as an educational experience."

Alan returned my grin. "You can be very eloquent when you want to be, John. Given your verbal skills, I see no reason for all cursing and screaming that you've engaged in recently."

I rolled my eyes. Alan could be equally as eloquent; he had always had a very well developed vocabulary. Another thing he and I had in common. Since I was asking my brother to show more maturity, I decided to be honest with him. "The past week wasn't easy for me either, so I've been a little on edge. I'm sorry for all the yelling."

It suddenly just occurred to me that I had physically attacked my brother. My body went cold. I hadn't done something like that since before my mother died... Guilt flooded me. I looked at Alan, full of remorse. "Alan...I just realized what I did. I'm so sorry. I can't believed I slammed you into the wall. I'm so sorry."

He waved me off. "Don't worry about it. I deserved it- and I needed it. I was acting like a self-centered ass. I would've thrown _myself_ into a wall if I had realized how insensitive I was being to Gords."

"Are you okay though?" I couldn't believe I had done that! What the hell was going through my head? "I'm so sorry-"

"John! Seriously. It's fine. I barely felt it. You more startled me than anything. I just didn't expect that from you. Anyone else...sure, but you?"

I was mortified. "You're okay? You're sure? I can't tell you how horrible I feel; I never should have put my hands on you. There's absolutely no excuse-"

He grabbed my face with his hands and spoke slowly, annunciating every word. "Listen to me. It is fine. I am not hurt. You are a weakling. Girls have pushed me harder. It is okay. I deserved it."

My squished face nodded in his hands and he let go. I appreciated the forgiveness, but I still felt bad. I worked my jaw back and forth. Ow. He had a strong grip.

My brother looked at me in earnest. "You want to talk about what happened on Five? I can be your pretend big brother too, after all, the ones you've got are having marital problems."

I laughed, but I was genuinely pleased with Alan's response to my honesty. Maybe he did have it in him to grow up a bit. Of course, I wasn't going to have him experimenting on me...he could test his 'big brother skills' on Gordon first. "Thanks, but that's okay. Virgil's got my back."

An eyebrow raised. "Not Scott?"

I wasn't sure how I felt about sharing all this info with Alan... "I'm avoiding Scott."

Ugh, he was smirking. He clearly knew something. "Still mad at him for being mean to Gordon?"

Cautious now, I watched what I said. "Nooo. The first day back, he tried to rip into me. Don't know what about."

"Oh." Damn, now he was looking smug. "Was that after you shared your feelings with dad?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yes..."

He nodded, apparently I had confirmed something for him. "Yea, he was going to tear you apart because you made dad cry."

"I did not make dad cry and I didn't appreciate your sharing the details of that conversation with Gordon either."

The arrogant expression vanished. Alan went to say something, but then stopped himself. Finally he asked, "Did I hurt him? I didn't even think...you're right. Wow, I really was pretty callous. It never even occurred to me that he'd feel bad about what you said. I'm sorry, John."

"I don't know if it hurt him. Like I said, he isn't always honest about stuff like that. I just would've rather not take the risk that it bothers him."

My brother sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Alan. You think you can keep this conversation confidential? He doesn't need to know you're being supportive because I pushed you into a wall."

He stood up. "I don't think that would make either of us look very good. As far as I'm concerned, I had the revelation that I was being an apathetic egomaniac all on my own. And of course having realized that, decided to correct my actions without external encouragement."

I laughed. "Sounds good to me. I'll leave you to it then."

Walking me to the door, he clapped a hand on my shoulder. "It's not the most pleasant experience I've had, but really you're not _that_ bad at the comforting thing."

I snorted. "Thanks."

He turned me towards him. "Seriously, John. I may not be known as a great listener, but if you need an ear, I've got two- and I wouldn't share it with anyone. I'm a lot better at keeping things to myself than anyone knows." He looked at me hard. "A lot better."

I opened the door to find Tin Tin standing outside. Seeing me, she grew flustered. Alan moved up next to me and smiled at her. "Hey. Midnight already?"

He winked at me. "I hope you're just as good."

Leaving me at the door, Alan draped an arm over Tin Tin's shoulder and began walking her down the hall. As they walked away, I could see him kissing her ear. She shrugged him off whispering, "Alan, he'll see."

He looked back at me with a smile. "Nah, he wouldn't tell anyone."

Then they were gone.

I think I stood in that spot a good five minutes before I even began to process what I'd just seen. They were together? For how long? Did Gordon really not know? Was I the only one who knew? Was I the only one who hadn't known? They were together? Alan was that smooth? How...What...How...

"You okay, John? You're lookin' a little confused there."

I snapped out of my thoughts to find Gordon standing in the hallway, bouncing on his toes, and looking at me. Forgetting about Alan, I looked him over. "How'd it go with father?"

He winced. "Well, I'm still standing. He didn't tear into me too much, he spent most of the time apologizing for forcing me to go and telling me how much he loved me. And he made me promise to be honest with him about my feelings in the future, instead of making excuses. I feel really bad though that he feels so guilty about the whole thing. I mean, he didn't know I'd go insane. And I'm still really embarrassed that I totally freaked, unlike _everyone_ else."

"Gordon, you're your own person. I told you, if you threw me underwater for a month, I'd freak too. In fact, _I _panicked just going scuba diving."

He rolled his eyes. "You did fine, John."

I fixed my stare on him. "I'm never doing that again."

Laughing, he nodded. "I know the feeling." He yawned. "You know, you'd think after 32 hours of sleep, I wouldn't be tired anymore."

"Brains figured you need 36-40 to catch up, so you're still short few."

Rubbing his eyes, he yawned again. "Yeah. I'm gonna go finish up then."

I hit him on shoulder and made my way to my own room. "Goodnight, sleep tight."

Behind me, I heard him shudder. "Ick, so glad we don't have bedbugs. We had them on the sub. I can't even tell you what a nightmare it was trying to get rid of them."

There were so many things I didn't know about my brothers...

"Goodnight, Johnny."

"'Night, Gords."

* * *

_Okay, so the next chapter will feature all the brothers in abundance. Actually, I think so far, the chapter 9 is my favorite. So hopefully, you'll like it too. For those of you waiting for some Scott resolution...it's coming, but not for two more chapters. Also, that wasn't the end conclusion of Gordon's thoughts about his time on Five. He'll be revisiting that issue two more times._


	9. Fights and Family

_We're in the home stretch! I really hope all the emotional processing isn't boring everybody to tears. I promise that chapter 12 is very exciting. I happen to like this chapter as well, although I'll qualify that by saying I really like the first half of this chapter. The second half isn't as much fun for me, but I did like it enough to keep it in the story. This is another long one!_

_Thanks to everyone who's continuing to read and all who've reviewed. Thanks again to Whirlgirl for that great review!_

_

* * *

_**Chapter 9: Fights and Family-**

"It's your attitude that's pissing me off!"

"_My_ attitude? _You're_ the one who's-"

"I HAVE A RIGHT TO MY OPINION!"

"NOT WHEN IT AFFECTS OTHER PEOPLE!"

With a groan, I rolled over and threw a pillow over my head. With any luck, my brothers were fighting on their way to somewhere else.

"You're not always right, _Virg_!"

"In this case I am!"

"I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING WRONG. ALL I SAID WAS-"

"I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID! THE WHOLE FUCKING ISLAND HEARD WHAT YOU SAID."

I whimpered into my mattress. Were they in the hall? To be that loud, they had to be. Why weren't they taking this elsewhere? This would never happen on Five.

"You-"

"Just get the hell away from me."

"Oh that's real mature. Run from the issue."

"Like you're doing with John and Gordon?"

Well, at least they weren't screaming at the top of their lungs anymore. But now, for some reason, _I_ was being dragged into the fight. Picking my head up, I looked at the clock: 7:30. I whined and pulled the pillow tighter around my head. I missed the solitude of my ship.

"I'm not doing anything with John and Gordon."

"That's my point."

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT! STOP TWISTING MY WORDS!"

"Alright! That's ENOUGH!"

That last one was a new voice. It sounded like Alan. What the...

"Shut up! Both of you! It is 7:30 in the morning and the two of you are screaming like banshees in the hallway! Enough! Gordon's trying to sleep. What the hell is wrong with the two of you?"

Alan was telling off Scott and Virgil? Oh, this I had to see. Jumping up from my bed, I ran to the door and opened it. Apparently, the drama was playing out directly in between my and Gordon's rooms. Across from me, Gordon was leaning against his doorjam, looking half-asleep in a t-shirt and bleach-stained boxers. Alan, in an expensive silk pajama set, was to my left, hands on his hips, staring down our oldest brothers. Scott and Virgil must have been up for awhile, they were both dressed.

I chimed into the fight. "Actually, we're all trying to sleep."

Alan gestured in my direction and nodded. "Yes, thank you, John. Yes, we're _all _trying to sleep."

Scott held up his hands in peace. "We're sorry. We'll take it somewhere else."

No idea why, but that statement must have really pissed off Virgil because the next thing I knew, his eyes went to slits and he started breathing hard. "_We_ nothing. You don't speak for me. You can't even speak for yourself!"

Scott turned back to face him. "Oh I see. So you're not sorry that you woke Gordon up then?"

"_I_ woke him up? You were the one screaming at the top of your lungs!"

I rolled my eyes as they went at it again.

"You know, I wasn't the one who started this."

"Yes you were! You said-"

"I KNOW WHAT I SAID!"

"THEN YOU STARTED IT!"

"FINE! You're right. We're done."

Scott went to turn around, but Virgil grabbed him by the shoulder to prevent him. Scott's hands went to push Virg off and the next thing I knew, they had each other in a grappling hold. Across from me, Gordon pushed himself off the doorjam, and ambled toward the idiots with his arms out.

"Come on guys, cut it out." He put one hand on each of their arms and before I could blink he flew back into the wall. Pain and shock registered in his eyes. His mouth opened and he brought a hand up to his chest. He seemed to be trying to breathe in, but his lungs weren't inflating. The wrestling fools, caught up in their own world, were oblivious.

I tried to step out of my doorway to get to Gordon, but had to jump back in to avoid getting smashed.

"THAT'S IT!" Reaching forward, Alan grabbed Scott by his waist, ripping him out of Virgil's grip, and flung Scott behind him. Now in between the two, and raging with fury, he was using his arms to keep them apart.

"STOP IT!" Alan's scream echoed through the entire house and both of my brothers immediately ceased their attacks. My youngest sibling stared at them with betrayal and disgust. For a moment, they all stood breathing heavily. Then, presumably confident that they weren't going to kill each other, Alan stepped away from our oldest brothers and went to Gordon.

"Are you okay?"

Gordon was propped up against the wall with his eyes closed, his chest still caved in. We all waited a few seconds and were rewarded with a heaving gasp. Now able to breath, Gordon slid himself down the wall and sat on the floor, his head resting on his knees.

"Gordon?"

My hairless brother gave a thumbs up accompanied with a muffled, "Fantastic."

Seeing that Gordon was okay, Alan turned his wrath toward Virgil and Scott. "I have HAD IT with the two of you! You've been at each other's throats for days now! I let it go because you seemed to be handling it quietly and, to be perfectly honest, I found the whole thing entertaining. But enough is enough now. I don't know what the hell your problem is and quite frankly, I don't care. But you woke all of us up and then when he tried to _help_ you, you knocked him into a wall. With the exception of some very specific circumstances," he made brief eye-contact with me before looking back to them, "throwing your brother into a wall is _not_ okay. Especially when he's already hurt!"

Scott and Virgil both looked down at Gordon, guiltily. Assholes. At least Gordon was looking up and breathing fine now.

"Now, this is going to end today." The identical looks of consternation that adorned my older brothers' faces as they listened to Alan, had me biting my tongue to keep from laughing. "I'd send you to your rooms to work it out, but I don't trust that that would accomplish anything other than getting you both killed. So, here's what's going to happen."

My eyes drifted back down to Gordon. The expression of astonishment on his face was priceless. Noticing my attention, he turned to me and mouthed, "The entire world has gone mad!" I stifled my laugh.

"Three's flight deck, and specifically the control panel, needs a thorough cleaning."

Shit. I had totally forgotten that Gordon had vomited all over the control panel on our way home. Damn. I would have to remember to thank Alan for completing the docking and reset procedures. Wow, I really had been out of it. Cleaning up Three never even entered my mind.

"In addition, there's some surface char on her external frame. Brains and I were going to clean her and run a diagnostic check of her systems to make sure none of the, uh, liquid damaged the controls."

"Sorry, Alan."

My youngest brother waved Gordon down. "Don't. It's just a machine."

Wow, when had Alan become more mature than the rest of us?

The confusion on my older brothers' faces let me know that they had no idea what Gords was referring to. I had a feeling the scent was still lingering, so they would...

Alan continued to outline his plan. "But I think it would be more beneficial if, instead of Brains and I, the two of _you_ cleaned Three and ran the system check. It's a two man job and it'll force you to work together."

Damn. I seriously didn't give Alan enough credit. I took back everything I thought about him the night before. He was way more cunning and ingenious than I had ever recognized.

Scott's eyes narrowed. "We...Excuse me, _I,_ am not doing your chores for you, Alan."

I spoke up. "Actually, they're my chores. I was the one who brought Three down-"

"And I was the one who messed her up, so it's really John and I that should be cleaning her."

Alan ignored us and pointed at Scott. "You will do them."

Our eldest brother was about to argue, but Al cut him off. "You will and I'll tell you why. Because right now, after your behavior this morning, I don't feel safe going out on a call with the two of you. You two were so pissed at each other, that you didn't even realize that you hurt Gords. We can't be out on a rescue with your minds distracted by each other. As it is, Gordon and John aren't themselves at the moment, so if we do get a call, it'll be the three of us going out and I really don't feel like getting killed- or worse, bringing one of _you_ home in a body bag. This is not up for discussion. You _will_ be spending the day working together and cleaning Three."

Silence filled the hallway as Scott obviously wracked his brain for a retort. Gordon and I caught each other's eye sharing a moment of 'holy shit'.

When Scott spoke again, he was calm. "I have a business call with Father from 10-1 today."

"That's alright, Scott. You have more important responsibilities to address." My father, appearing out of nowhere, moved up next to Alan and clamped a hand on his shoulder. "Alan can take your place at my side today."

Gordon quickly covered his mouth with his arm and I regressed into the shadow of my door to keep anyone from seeing my face. Holy crap! Wow. If that wasn't a diss... Wow. Alan must be feeling like king of the world right now...and rightfully so. He deserved that compliment from my dad.

When I moved back to the hall, I saw Alan desperately trying not to smile. He was so proud, he just couldn't keep it in. Scott and Virg on the other hand were looking pretty humble, Scott especially. He acquiesced to my father, "Yes, Father. I'll go get started now." He turned to Virg. "You ready?"

Virgil nodded and turned to Gordon. "I'm sorry, Gords. Are you hurt?"

"Nah." He stood up unsteadily. "Just got the wind knocked out of me."

Scott looked him over. "I'm sorry too."

Gordon made a face of regret. "Well, I'm sorry for what you're about to clean up."

Their faces morphed into disgust as they finally realized what had possibly damaged the control panel. With walks of dejection, they made their way toward the hangar bay. As soon as they left the hall, I burst out laughing.

My father was smiling as well. "Very nicely handled, Alan."

He stood proudly. "Thanks. Being in my familial position, I have picked up quite a few discipline techniques along the way..."

Gordon grinned. "Holy crap, though. You totally put them in their place! I mean, did you see Virgil's face? Did you see Scott's? He couldn't even argue with you! Even if dad hadn't come in, he was going to do what you said. That's amazing!"

Alan beamed back. "Well, he had to, otherwise he was going to have a mutiny on his hands."

I piped up. "Yeah, thanks for deciding I was unfit for a rescue, by the way."

He rolled his eyes at me. "I was trying to make a point, John. Besides, you _are _off your game. I'm not saying we wouldn't use you if we really needed to, but if it's not necessary..."

I wasn't going to argue with him. It was too hypothetical. "Yeah, we'll see."

"That goes for me too, by the way."

Our attention turned to Gordon. Was he seriously trying to convince us that he could go out on a call?

My father intervened. "Until you're able to keep food down, you're not going anywhere."

Gordon went to argue, but dad stopped him. "We don't need you christening anymore Thunderbirds. Five and Three is enough."

My brother laughed. "Actually, dad, in the past I've puked in Four and Two as well. So, it's just One. Ha! Double Entendre!"

Alan shook his head and moved to my brother's side. "Not really. A double entendre has a sexual double meaning. That was a pun."

Gordon looked disappointed. "Oh."

My father was studying him. "Are you okay, son?"

"Yeah. It was just the wind getting knocked out of me. I don't think it'll even leave a bruise."

My father nodded before zeroing in on Gordon's waist. "Don't you think it's time you threw those out?"

My brother pulled at the leg of his boxers. "What? These? These are my comfiest pair."

"They're completely faded in sections."

Gords shrugged. "Well, it's not their fault I over did it with the bleach. I like these ones."

My father sighed. "Gordon, you look like a bum. Tell Kyrano what brand and size and I'll have him pick some up on his next-"

"I can buy my own boxers, dad. I'll order a couple of packs off the internet."

Dad agreed. "See that you do." Then he turned to the rest of us. "The three of you need to get dressed. Kyrano's making pancakes...and a special smoothie for you, Gordon."

I laughed at my brother's grimace. "Joy."

With the drama over, I went back to my room.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Twenty minutes later we were all gathered around the table for breakfast, well except Scott and Virgil. I wondered how that was going...

Grandma had decorated the table in yellow today. A yellow table cloth with two green vases and big, bright yellow flowers. They smelled pretty nice, whatever they were. My guess was that Tin Tin had picked them. They matched the one she was wearing in her hair.

"Okay, uh, Gordon. This shake has a, uh, highly concentrated amount of, uh, nutrients a, a, as well as some herbs."

My brother stared at the chartreuse shake warily. "Yeah, but what does it taste like?"

Kyrano answered, "It is mint flavored."

Somehow, that didn't seem to make a large impact. The pancakes piled in the middle of the table smelled great though. I stabbed three with a fork and plopped them down on my plate. Maybe it would be better for him to eat something that tasted, smelled, and looked good... "Gords, are you still nauseous?"

He grimaced. "Well, I wasn't until I saw the shake." Quickly adding an appeasing smile for Brains and Kyrano, he appended, "which I'm sure tastes incredibly delicious."

Ignoring the comments, my father nudged him. "Go on son, try it."

I looked on with pity as I began eating the pile of fluffy goodness in front of me. Damn, the food on this island was good! Kyrano should get an award or something.

With an expression of both apprehension and disgust, my brother leaned over the straw and sucked. A new look came over his face, clearly the shake didn't taste as bad as he had feared. After four swallows, he came up for a breath. "Mmm, minty."

We all laughed and even Kyrano smiled. "I am glad the flavor is pleasing to you."

Suddenly, the vases and glasses began to rattle and the silverware vibrated against the plates. All heads turned to Gordon. Pausing mid-sip, he looked at us. "What?"

Alan answered, "Well, either there's an earthquake or you're vibrating the entire table."

Gords' lips pulled tight. "Sorry." The tremors stopped. My brother shifted his position so that one of his legs was folded under him. Then he started the high-speed tapping of his pointer finger while he resumed his drink. Well, at least my food wasn't moving around anymore.

With my brother now comfortable and consuming some form of food, everyone began eating. My grandmother had made her famous strawberry syrup, which just happens to be _the best_ strawberry syrup in the world. I poured so much on my food that the syrup covered the entire plate. Pretty soon, I was dipping my fork into it and licking it off.

"Father," Alan began, "Did you want me to take Gordon's shift on Five? Then I'll just stay up."

"I hadn't thought about it. I've been preoccupied." He looked between Alan and myself. "I would like to get one of you back up there though. The automation's good if a call comes in, but as you both know, there are many times when there is an emergency that we could help with and nobody calls us."

I nodded. I'd say forty percent of the calls we went out on were never called in to us. I just picked up the distress signals over the airwaves.

"Today's Friday? How is Monday, Alan?"

I noticed Tin Tin lost some of her glow. I stepped in. "Well, I never finished my six month shift, so I have no problem going back up. Alan can take his regular shift."

Dad was shaking his head. "No, I think you could use some time off, John. Alan, Monday?"

"Father, I do not need time off."

With a sigh, he turned to me. "John, you've been up there for five months, it's Alan's turn."

I'd accept that explanation, but that wasn't what he had said. Just as I was about to argue, I was interrupted by Gordon.

"Father, couldn't they both stay down a little longer. I mean, _I _was supposed to be up there for a month, so neither of them should have to go up until next month. It's not right that they have to take my shift."

Okay...where was Gordon going with this? He couldn't do his shift, and actually, it was part of _my_ shift long before it was his...

"We need to have someone up there-"

"Why? We can pick up and monitor the airwaves here. Five bounces them down to us."

My father answered my brother calmly. "That's true, son. But without someone on Five, if you and your brothers are out on a call, the communications will have up to a 10 second delay. That could cost someone their life."

Having no further argument, Gordon put both feet on the floor and slumped down in his seat looking rather miserable. I also noticed that he stopped drinking his shake. At least he had managed to get half down.

"Alright, so it's settled. Alan, plan to leave Monday."

He nodded. "Yes, Father." As an after thought, he added, "Oh. Um, if Three is fully functional."

_That_ stopped my father. "Hmm, yes, I'd forgotten about that. Well, I suppose we'll know today after your brothers run the systems checks."

Gordon was hugging himself and he looked really upset. I squinted at him. "You okay?"

Still looking down, he gave me a nod. "Fine."

Funny, he didn't look very 'fine'.

"I just realized who you look like!"

My attention turned to Alan who was gleefully pointing across the table to Gordon. In return, Gordon shot him a rather skeptical look.

Alan ignored it. "You know at the end of that old movie 'Return of the Jedi' when Darth Vader's mask comes off?"

I cracked up. That was _exactly_ who Gordon looked like.

"You look exactly like Vader! No hair, no eyebrows, and giant black circles under your eyes!"

My brother rolled his eyes as we all laughed at him. I mean, he _really _did look like that. As I chuckled, I noticed my father watching Gordon with a serious expression. Huh. I'd agree that Gordon seemed upset before, but not to the point that warranted that look.

Seemingly unaware of the laughter, my father turned to Brains. "Brains, do you remember that conversation we had about running the communications through a lower satellite?"

"Yes, uh, yes, Mr. Tracy."

"If I could arrange for a satellite to be delivered next week, how long would it take to program and launch?"

"Uh, with Virgil's, uh, help. We could ha, have it launched in three days."

Alan spoke up. "Father, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking it might be prudent to have you stay down here for awhile."

My brows raised and I noticed the confusion on Alan's face. That was a quick switch... Before either of us could say anything, Gordon asked, "What made you change your mind, Father?"

The love in my father's eyes as he looked at Gordon was evident. It made me wonder how I could have ever questioned it.

"I've gotten better at noticing when something is really bothering you."

My brother shook his head. "Dad, I appreciate it, but you can't keep them down here because I'm crazy. They like it up there. We need them up there. I have to suck it up- and I will."

My father smiled as he agreed. "You will, Gordon, but it's only been two days and if we can eliminate the delay in communications, there's no reason to rush. I'd like to keep the next few weeks as low stress as possible for you."

Seeing that my brother was about to argue again, my father raised a hand to continue. "It's not all about you either. I'd like to give John a break as well and I realized that if Alan is on Five, that leaves only Virgil and Scott... Considering their behavior this morning, the idea of sending them into the danger zone without backup concerns me."

I really didn't understand why everyone just considered me out of service. Nothing had happened to me. I was fine. Okay, so I had spoken rashly and I was not my typical, exceedingly calm, self. But I wasn't sick, I wasn't injured. Why was I being treated like an invalid?

I would have said something, again, but the truth was, I just didn't feel like fighting or arguing anymore. I was tired of it. Whatever the reason was for them to discount me, it would fade over time. Plus, I had kept on top of the airwaves. The issue in Madagascar was well in hand. Barring any random man-made disasters, we weren't going to be needed any time soon.

"I see you drank half of your shake, Gordon. How do you feel?" Tin Tin's soft spoken tone pulled me from my thoughts.

Gords shrugged. "A little nauseous, but I haven't puked yet..."

"That is wonderful, Gordon. The more you eat, the faster you will heal." Tin Tin had always tried to see the bright side of things. It was a vast difference from her boyfriend's view of life. Boyfriend...ugh! I couldn't believe my little brother, my _baby brother_, was getting laid on a regular basis and I wasn't. Shit. I needed to go to Prague.

"Father, since I will be down here the next few months, I'd like to take a week next month to visit a friend in Prague."

"A girlfriend?" Gordon was trying to waggle his eyebrows at me, too bad he didn't have any.

I feigned bewilderment. "Why are you wiggling your ears?"

"I'm not, I'm wiggling my eyebrows."

Alan joined me. "You don't have any. You just look like you're making weird faces for no reason."

"Fine, then I'm making weird faces. What's her name, John?"

Grr... Damn him. I forgot that it was near impossible to annoy Gordon. The freak liked being teased. Well, either that or he took it seriously and then you just ended up feeling really bad about the whole thing. Pain in my ass.

"Well?"

"Eliska."

"Eliska...ooo. She sounds hot."

He was getting on my nerves now... "She's a nice girl. I've been emailing with her for months."

Alan laughed. "She's probably a 50-year-old fat man."

Gordon laughed with him. "Yeah, and he probably sent John a picture of an underwear model saying it was him."

"And he believed it!"

I glared at both of them. She couldn't be a guy. The picture wasn't fake... I don't think. I mean, she wasn't in her underwear in it. She was a nice girl! She liked looking at the stars. I like looking at the stars. We wrote pages and pages back and forth! I stared Gordon down.

He was laughing pretty hard when he caught my look. He continued for a moment, but then something changed in his eyes. It was a little scary, like I could read his mind. I saw the apology in them, the 'I'm still grateful to you,' and a small amount of...dependency? The laughter stopped and he continued to meet my stare. Finally, he said, "I'm sure she's great, John and she does have a really pretty name. Does she like astronomy?"

I nodded. "She read my paper on the application of linear antiturbulence macromolecules to angular momentum transport in accretion disks and had some interesting comments on the topic. That's how we got to emailing."

Gordon put his hands to his head squirmed. "Ah! Too many big words! Brain, melting..."

Alan laughed. "It's plasma astrophysics." Then he looked at me. "Well, if he is an old, fat man, at least he's a smart, old, fat man."

Finally, my father answered my original question. "Just let me know when you'd like to leave, John. And I would like to have the young lady's full name and address as well as your itinerary."

"Yes, Father." I may be a full grown adult, but my father still asks the same questions he did when I was sixteen. I couldn't blame him in this case though, I was the son of a billionaire and I was going to meet a girl that I had never seen or met in person before. Plus, I was a little concerned myself now that Alan and Gordon had brought up the possibility that Eliska wasn't real. I hadn't considered that...

A loud beep suddenly came from the living room monitor. It had to be Virgil or Scott, everyone else was here. Standing up, my father walked across the room to the sunken living room. Pushing a button on the coffee table, he turned on the TV and sure enough, there was Virgil in Thunderbird Three.

"How's it going, Virgil?"

"Father, part of the aft fuselage looks like it was charred on re-entry. It could probably just be cleaned up, but it would be safer if it was replaced. The next time it gets charred, it could break off."

That would be bad...very bad. One piece breaks off on re-entry and the entire ship burns up.

"Alright, Virgil. I'll send in an order for all the parts. You'll have to let me know which panel."

"FAB, Father. Uh, will you be able to get it immediately?"

Dad waved him down. "We were just discussing it, Alan will remain here for the next month. I'm going to purchase a satellite to put into low orbit to enable faster communications."

Virgil's brows went up. But before he could speak, my father had further questions. "How is the control panel?"

"Uh, well, the systems check didn't find a problem, but it's obvious that some of the liquid got in the controls. Scott and I have removed the plate and are trying to clean the electronics below it. So far, nothing's been damaged."

The redness creeping up Gordon's face caught my eye. I couldn't blame him. It had to be embarrassing to have your brothers cleaning your vomit from the controls of a multi-billion dollar piece of equipment.

"Father, I should go help them."

Virgil answered for my father. "You wouldn't fit, Gords. We're cramped as it is. Besides, from the looks of things, we're dealing mostly with sugar water. Your stomach hadn't added it own properties yet."

"How does that make it better?"

"No smell."

"I still feel bad-"

"Don't. When I blacked out three months ago you cleaned me up without a word and I heard from Brains how bad that was. Don't even think about this. We've got it."

I hadn't heard about that story. I mean, I knew Virg had gotten pushed out of a plane and blacked out from the sudden drop in altitude, but I hadn't heard that he had...lost control of his facilities so to speak. That had been quite an interesting rescue. Scott grabbing a parachute and diving out the plane head first, arms pinned to his sides to catch Virgil was talk of the island for the rest of that week. I had forgotten that Gordon and Brains were there as well...

"Are you sure-"

"Gordon, it's nothing. Really. I mean it. Just relax today."

Gords' face lit up. "Hey, guess what? I just drank half a fortified milkshake and haven't puked yet!"

Laughing, the face in the vid-screen replied, "I'm so proud of you, drinking half a milkshake...and not puking too? Wow, you're getting to be such a big boy."

Gordon feigned bashfulness. "Aww, shucks, Virg. You don't have to go and make a big deal out of it. After all...it was only _half_ a milkshake."

I started chuckling as my dad rolled his eyes. "Alright, enough you two. Gordon, drink the rest of it. Virgil, run the systems check a second time when you're done with the cleaning."

"FAB." And screen went dark.

Alan was immediately talking. "Gords, you never said anything in the debrief about having to clean-"

"Grandma, you know what I was thinking might help me get over this nausea? Some cherry cobbler..."

Cherry cobbler? Yeah, that would make a lovely shade of vomit. But, then, Gordon was master of evasion and it was clear that whatever happened after Virgil fell was not going to be shared. I wondered if my father had known about it...

As my grandmother discussed pies with Gordon, I looked down at my own meal. My plate was a mess. There was strawberry syrup everywhere...including the new tablecloth. Did strawberry syrup stain?

"I think I'm done. If you don't mind, I'm going to go for a walk on the beach." I looked up at my brother's declaration. I noticed he hadn't drank any more of the shake.

"All right, Gordon. Do you want company?"

My brother shrugged. "I always like company, but you have that business call with Alan."

Based on dad's expression, he had forgotten.

"I'll go with you if you want, Gords. Or have you seen too much of me this week?"

He smiled at me. "Well, as long as you don't try to hug me again. I mean, it was just non-stop up there..."

Oh, he was funny... "I'll do my best to restrain myself."

He laughed and together we made our way out the door.

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_Three more chapters left! The next chapter is Gordon and John's healing heart to heart and then the chapter after is the big Scott chapter that everyone's been waiting for. I hope since you've come this far in the story, you'll stick with it to the end... And as always, I'd love to know your thoughts. Thanks!  
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	10. John and Gordon

_Hi! Thanks for returning! And thanks to Whirlgirl and Jo for the wonderful reviews! So, here is the big John/Gordon chapter. I hope you all enjoy it!_

_See the bottom of the chapter for information on the two songs used in this chapter._

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**Chapter 10: John and Gordon-**

It was a nice walk. We didn't say much, just walked barefoot, having ditched our shoes on the patio, and watched our feet squish in the wet sand. Behind us the waves crashed in, erasing the evidence that we had ever been there. The sun was shining high in the East, heating this giant greenhouse people named Earth. With our island being so close to the equator, it could get awfully hot and today was no exception. It had to be over 100 degrees Fahrenheit out here. The mist off the sea provided some relief, but not much. I was wishing that I wasn't wearing my short-sleeved button down shirt right now. The undershirt beneath it was soaked. Oh well, at least I had on my khaki _shorts_ instead of the pants.

I looked over at Gordon, dressed in bright floral shorts and a thin, neon yellow t-shirt, he looked pretty comfortable. I wouldn't be caught dead in that outfit. Just as I was watching him, he reached down and dug a small, ½" crab out of the wet sand. He blew some of the sand off and place the small creature in his palm.

"Hey little fella," he said in a soft, high-pitched tone, "What are you doing all the way over here? You're supposed to be on the coral. How's it gonna get clean if you're over here in the sand? What happened? Did a big bad fish try to eat you?"

I stared at him with my brows raised. He held the tiny crustacean right up to his face and spoke to the thing as if it were an infant.

"Hmm...now, how are we gonna get you back home?"

We were not going to get it back home. The coral reef was a mile out. He wasn't swimming there. He hadn't eaten in days. No way.

Finally he faced me, holding his hand out. "John, do me a favor and swim this little fellow over to the coral."

I just stared at him.

He thrust his hand up again, a pathetic pout on his face. Realizing that he wasn't going to get anywhere with that, he turned back to the crab. "You know what I think? I think _you're_ not the one I'd call crabby." Then he cracked up laughing.

I sighed loudly. "Are you done?"

He grinned at me. "Oh come on, John. You're no fun. Alan would've totally played along."

"I'm not Alan. I'm John. We have the same hair, but we're different people."

He spoke again to the crab as he placed it back on the sand. "I'm sorry, little guy. I guess you'll just have to fend for yourself..." As soon as the creature hit the ground, it buried itself and disappeared.

Gordon stood up and wiped his sandy hand on his shorts. "That kind of crab really does belong on the reef."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure there's a million more where that one came from."

My brother skipped up next to me. "Hopefully."

We resumed walking in silence. The stifling heat was getting to me. We were, what, 30 minutes from the house now, that meant 30 minutes back. Ugh. I picked at my sticky undershirt and pulled it back and forth, trying to get air to my skin.

"Do you think I should try again?"

Huh? "What? Try what again?"

"Doing a month on Five."

I stopped walking. "I'm sorry, the heat must have fried your brain."

He turned around and looked right at me. "John, I'm serious."

"Why...why...I...why on Earth, or not as the case may be, would you be thinking of putting yourself through that again. I mean, wasn't it _you_ who told me yesterday that you didn't care what anyone thought, there was no way you were going back up there?"

He looked down at his feet as he drew a design in the sand with his toes. "I've never failed at anything before."

The first thing that came to my mind was the hydrofoil race. That would definitely fall in the 'failed' column. However, there was _no_ way I was going to say, 'well, you failed when you crashed that hydrofoil'. That would have been extremely cruel. I settled for something a little less less hurtful. "Not true, you failed ninth grade English."

He stopped and scowled at me. "That's only because Mrs. HellonEarth hated me. And anyway, I passed it in summer school."

Mrs. _Helan_ did hate him. Something about Gordon sitting on his knees in class instead of having his bottom on the chair. Apparently he used to bounce up and down, while repeatedly clicking and unclicking his pen. He also fell off the chair a few times, which disrupted the class. For some reason, she didn't like that. She had called my father about Gordon's activities at least once a week. At first dad took her side and told Gordon to make an effort to sit "like a normal human being" and stop with the constant moving. Telling Gordon to stop moving was like telling Earth to stop spinning. It couldn't be done. Then, at parent-teacher conferences she had suggested that my father put Gordon on medication. That was the end of that. Dad went ballistic and tried everything he could to get Gords out of her class. It didn't work. The new principal was going to back his teachers no matter who the parent was. The tests in her class were essays and therefore subjective. Between dad's threats and Gordon's high activity level, Mrs. Helan made sure that Gordon's answers did not meet her standards.

"I don't like having a failure on my record."

I sighed. "There is no record, Gords. And this shouldn't be such a huge deal. So you don't go on space missions, so what? Like you've said, there's plenty of us who can. And do you really want to anyway?"

He shook his head. "It's not about the practicality, it's about the fact that I let my fear beat me. It pisses me off. I'm just so mad!" He jumped up and down and kicked the sand. Then he swayed.

I ran to his side and braced him. His eyes closed and he slowed his breathing. "Sorry, just got dizzy."

Shocking. "I don't know why, considering you haven't eaten in five days and it's 110 degrees out here."

Carefully, he lowered himself to the ground and pulled his knees to his chest. I grimaced. He was sitting in wet sand. Obviously, I was going to have to sit next to him. I mean, the moment called for that. Ugh. Great. I was going to end up with a sandy wet stain covering my ass. Then I was going to have to hand wash these. If I put them into the wash with my other khakis, sand would be all over everything.

"John, if you're going to stand, could you at least move over a foot and block the sun from my head?"

I winced as I noticed the sun glare bouncing off his shiny skull. His skin was already turning red. "Did you put on sunscreen?"

He squinted up at me, covering his eyes with his hand. "Are you crazy? You think I'd come out here bald and not put on sunscreen?"

"Yes."

He made a face. "Alan reminded me when I was getting dressed."

I laughed. At least his head wouldn't burn. With a deep breath, I sat myself down along side him. I could already feel the water seeping through my shorts. Damn it.

He scrunched his left eye shut as he looked in my direction. "So seriously, do you think I should try again?"

I sighed. "I don't know, Gords. I guess, if it's something that you really feel like you _have _to do... But I totally think it's unnecessary. I mean, other than Scott- because I haven't spoken to him- I know nobody thinks of you any differently-"

"I think of myself differently. You don't understand. After the hydrofoil accident, when I defied all the odds, it was such a boost, you know? Like I could conquer anything. Now, there's something that I just allowed to beat me."

I would give pretty much anything to not ever watch someone I love suffer the way he had this past week. I paused, making a mental note that that was the second time in my life I had thought exactly that...and the other time had been about Gordon as well. But back to the issue, if Gordon really needed to do this for himself, I didn't want to be unsupportive.

I needed to respond to him. "Okay, look. There's a lot of people out there with phobias, astrophobia's not unheard of; it can be dealt with. Do I think you'd be able to spend a month on Five if you worked at it? Absolutely. We can consult with a psychologist and develop a training schedule using systematic desensitization. It would gradually increase the amount of time you spend up there and if you learn some coping skills, I'm sure you'd eventually be able to do the whole month. It would probably take a year or two, a lot of training time, and plenty of rocket fuel. And in doing that, you'd have to sacrifice your time for other things like diving, swimming, and vacations. But in the end, you'd be able to say that you spent a month on Five. Then, if you wanted to spend the month alone, that'd probably take more time. But yes, I have _no_ doubt that you'd be able to do it."

He pulled his lips in as he took in what I said. "Do you think I should?"

I shrugged. "That's up to you. _I _have no need for you to do that. You're not impressing me; I know you'd be able to if you invested the time in it. I've already seen you do way more impressive things that have taken a similar amount of effort, like winning an Olympic gold and re-teaching your body how to use your muscles. So if you do it, you're only doing it for yourself. But if you want to do this, I'll support you any way I can."

He leaned his chin on his knees and looked out over the ocean. He sat there for a good five minutes, wiggling his toes, tapping his legs, and peering into the waves. I just sat next to him, watching the sunlight dance across the water.

"I really hate space."

I smiled, my eyes never leaving the ocean. "I really hate the heat."

I heard him laugh. "Not nearly as much as I hate space."

I chuckled. "That's probably true."

He put his hands over his face and flopped back onto the sand. "Ugh! I can't believe I freaked to the point that all my hair fell out!"

"Technically, it didn't all fall out. You shaved a lot of it."

"Minor detail, John. Urrrgghhh!"

I dodged flying bits of sand as he kicked his feet up and down and pounded his fists into the ground.

"I'm so mad! I can't believe I flipped out! Aaahhhhh! Stupid idiot! Dumb, pathetic, chicken shit! Damn it!"

I scooted two feet to my left- away from the soaring particles. Just as I had re-settled in my new seat, a blob of wet sand landed on my nose.

My brother stopped his tantrum, looking sheepish. "Sorry."

I wiped the dirty gob from my face and flung it onto the ground. Then I glanced in his direction. "Finished? Or is there more flipping out about the flipping out?"

"Yeah...I think I'm good for now."

"Good."

In one swift motion, my brother hopped into a standing position and then wobbled again. I jumped up after him. Before I could grab him though, he held up his hands to stop me. "I'm okay."

Then he spoke again. "It really doesn't make a lot of sense for me to invest the effort in it, not when I'm not really needed up there. If father told me I had to do it to stay in IR, then I would do it. But honestly, I'd rather spend the time improving Four and keeping up on the new advances in deep sea submersibles."

I nodded, brushing the sand from my rear. "That's probably a heck of a lot more useful to the rest of us as well."

"Maybe it's okay that I hate space and can't be up there. I mean, if I could do everything, what purpose would you guys have?"

I shot a look at his joke. "Nice. I'll keep that in mind. My only purpose is to fill in for your weaknesses."

He smiled. "As long as I can stay extremely knowledgeable and skilled at the underwater and deep sea rescues. I'll work as hard as I can for that. If I ever lose that expertise, it will not be for lack of effort. If there are things out there that I suck at, which obviously there are, then I _really_ want to be one of the most highly skilled experts in my own field."

I understood. Gordon was right, he was the best, the top of his field. As I had told our father, Gordon was regarded _by_ the best in the world as _being_ the best in the world.

"Plus, I can always invest the time in later if I ever change my mind. At least I was able to stay up there four days, right?"

Well, three and a half, but I wasn't about to take him down again.

"And, I've had the training already. Like I said last night, if there was ever an emergency, I know I could do it. I'd be so focused on the crisis, I wouldn't have time to freak about floating away from Earth."

"A crisis wouldn't put you up there for more than a few days, the most, anyway. Any longer than that and it wouldn't be an emergency."

He didn't seem to like my answer. "I have to think about this. I might want to know that I can spend a full week without panicking. Just in case of something."

I thought of something else. "Uh, Gords-"

He waved me down. "I know, good luck convincing dad. I've thought about that. But from what Al said, dad's going to put in some tests to pass to be allowed to go up, so if I ever do pass the tests, it shouldn't be an issue."

"That wasn't what I was going to say."

"Oh. Sorry. What?"

"What I was going to say was, it's flattering that you're so worried about me and Al that you're willing to torture yourself to make sure that you could rescue us. You know, if Scott, Virgil, Dad, Brains, and whichever of us isn't in Five are ever incapacitated _and _whoever _is_ in Five is in mortal danger. But, I think it may be a better use of IR's resources if, oh, I don't know, we put the time and effort into preparing a rescue method to get _you_ if something happens in Four. Because right now, five people and Three can get to Five in an emergency. _No_ people and _no _machines can get to Four."

"Just call WASP."

"Right, okay. Well, in that case, you don't need to worry about a rescue on Five- just call the ISP and they'll send a ship over."

He grimaced. "You may have a point."

We resumed our walk and I could tell from his demeanor that our talk had helped him. Although we were walking away from the house, we were also walking towards the back entrance to the hangar. Whether Gordon liked it or not, once we got there, our walk would be over. He wasn't feeling well and it was _way_ too hot.

Out of nowhere, he started laughing. Believe it or not, that wasn't unusual behavior for him.

Noticing my stare, he explained. "I was just remembering my singing at three in the morning Monday night." He smeared his hands over his face and laughed at himself. "I was totally losing it."

"What song?"

He started to sing, dramatically no less... "The poor cook he caught the fits, threw away all my grits. Then he took and he ate up all of my corn. Let me go home. Why don't they let me go home? This is the worst trip I've ever been on. So hoist up the John B. sail. See how the mainsail sets. Call for the captain ashore, let me go home. Let me go home. I wanna go home. Well, I feel so broke up, I wanna go home."

I laughed. "Fitting song."

He wrinkled his nose. "Didn't help, just reminded me that I really wanted to go home."

I grinned at him. "You should've told me. I would've sung a more encouraging song for you."

His bare brow raised. "Yeah?"

I began my serenade. "In the town, where I was born..." The smile that lit my brother's face was totally worth my embarrassment. "...lived a man who sailed the sea. And he told us of his life, in the land of submarines. "

Gordon joined me. " So we sailed on to the sun, till we found a sea of green. And we lived beneath the waves, in our yellow submarine."

When we got to the chorus, we both sang at the top of our lungs. "We all live in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine, yellow submarine. We all live in a yellow submarine, yellow submarine, yellow submarine."

We stopped there, but the tune had done it's job. My brother was hopping along as I walked. Great thing about Gordon, he's so naturally positive- it's like a built-in life preserver. Difficult times drag him down, but he just pops right back up. He squinted over at me. "I love that song!"

As though I hadn't known that... "I know you do. That's why I sang it."

He was beaming and bouncing- all traces of his struggle the past week were wiped off his face. He looked at me again. He could blind someone with that grin. "I do live in a yellow submarine!"

Again, as though I hadn't known that. I rolled my eyes at him as I chuckled. "I know you do, Gords."

"That's why I asked for yellow. I mean, it serves no practical purpose."

"I know."

"But I asked dad if Four could be yellow because of the song."

"I know."

"I always wanted to ride in one."

"I know."

"And now I _have_ a yellow submarine!"

"Gords...I know."

He had that look in his eye... Uh oh.

...And I was engulfed in a hug. Way too hot for that. I squirmed. "Get off. Gordon, it's too hot."

He released me, laughing. Ugh, the little shit did this purposely to annoy me. Now when we got back, he'd be going on about me hugging him on the beach. Not to mention he knew how hot I was. The gallon of sweat I was wearing was a clear indication. Pain in my ass.

I looked over and he was still grinning at me. "Thanks, John."

More with that? "Seriously, if you thank me one more time-"

"You're different than I always thought you were."

Huh? That completely stopped me. And he looked serious now too, which made it even worse. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged and swooped up a shell, playing with it as we walked. "You're more caring than I thought."

What the hell did that mean? He didn't think I cared? "You didn't think I cared?"

He was oblivious to how much his words were scaring me. "No, no. I knew you cared, but in a 'you're my brother so I'm supposed to' kind of way. I don't know. Maybe caring's not the right word." He threw the shell into the water and looked at me. "Warm?"

"What?"

He explained, "You're personality. I always thought of you as kind of cold, you know. Not in like a mean way, but you're very intellectual. And you have a sense of humor and all, so you can be funny, but I never knew how...warm and kindhearted you could be." He laughed. "John the kindhearted, makes you sound like a Knight of the Roundtable..."

I wasn't laughing. It hurt. It actually, physically, hurt me to hear him say that. Did everybody think that? And Gordon wasn't even sensoring what he was saying, like it should be no big deal. He thought I was a cold person? Is that how I come off? He thought I only cared about my family because I was supposed to? How could he think that? After everything we all had been through in IR and even before... I didn't even know what to say.

Gordon wasn't looking at me anymore, he was watching the waves crash in and scanning the line of debris they left along the shore.

Before I could process anything further, he continued. "You just never show your feelings much, so I guess I never really knew what you were really like. I'm kind of glad I was sent to Five. I got to know you and you're way deeper... like you _feel_ a lot more than I think any of us ever gave you credit for."

I could actually feel my heart pounding in my chest. So it wasn't just Gordon. The thing was, part of the reason this conversation stung so much was because I always _had_ felt removed from the group. Like I had told Gordon on Five, I always felt like Gordon and Alan were close and Scott and Virgil were close. I was just always more cautious and introverted; I wasn't a fun, run-around kind of kid. But my brothers were the people I felt closest to throughout my whole life. And now Gordon was telling me that they never really even knew me? So _they're_ all good friends, but nobody knows _me_?

"John, what's wrong? You look upset."

I shook my head. "Nothing's wrong."

"You sure?"

I shrugged it off. "Yeah. No problems."

Gordon accepted it without a second thought. "Hey look! A sea krait!" I followed my brother's line of sight to about 20 feet out in the ocean. Sure enough, there was the black and white snake, floating on the water. I moved away from the waves.

Gordon saw me and laughed. "He's sunbathing 20 feet out, John."

"They're one of the most venomous creatures in the world."

"So don't stick your finger in it's mouth. He's not going to bother you. I swim with them all the time." He laughed. "I can't believe you're afraid of a sea krait."

I shot him a side-ways glance. "Really? You're making fun of me for being afraid?"

The smile vanished from his face and he looked almost frightened. He quickly shook his head. "No. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, didn't think so." Now that we were past the snake, I moved back toward my brother.

"Hey. You mind if we just go in here?"

I followed his finger to the mountain which housed our family secret. "Took the words right out of my mouth." _I_ was dying of heat stroke, but Gordon wasn't usually bothered by extreme temperatures, which meant he really wasn't feeling well if he was opting to go inside as opposed to walk back on the beach.

I walked up to the side of the fake mountain facade and stepped on the hidden button buried in the grass. A piece of the mountain wall raised up, exposing the secret keypad. I quickly punched in the number/letter combo. A few seconds later, a rumbling vibrated the ground as the facade rose up and receded into the mountain.

When the wall was up, I turned to my brother- he was sitting in the sand.

Being the 'cold' person that I was, I was tempted to just go inside and leave him there. I pushed down the anger. Gordon hadn't meant to hurt me. He was just saying what he thought. With a sigh, I reached out a hand. He took it and pulled himself to his feet with a grunt.

Slapping him on the back, I pushed him forward into the hangar. Ahh, air conditioning. Goosebumps appeared all over my skin. The fact that I was soaked through with sweat and seawater only added to the chill.

Sounds to my left drew my attention to Scott and Virgil descending the staircase from Three. Ignoring them for the moment, I walked to the hangar's wall and hit the button to close the door. No point in wasting all that cool air.

"How'd you guys get here?" Virgil called out across the cavernous room.

My brother answered before I could open my mouth. "Teleportation. Brains just invented the machine and Gordon and I volunteered to try it out." He felt his head. "What? No hair! Oh no! Gordon, something must have gone wrong! We're in the wrong bodies!"

Where the hell did he come up with these things? Oh well, might as well play along. "Sorry, John. I think I'm keeping your body. You're way more well endowed than I am and I'd like to see what it feels like to be a real man for once."

He scowled at me. "Come on, John. You could at least come up with something believable."

I laughed. By this time, our older siblings had reached us.

Gordon questioned them. "So, how's the punishment going?"

No answer.

Gordon nodded. "Oh, so good then..." He zeroed in on Scott. "Hey Scott, when you get a chance, can we talk?"

"Scott's busy." Virgil answered.

Gordon held up his hands and backed away. "I'm not trying to steal him. I'm saying when he's free-"

"I thought you weren't feeling well." I still didn't know where Scott stood on what had happened on Five and I wanted to make sure he realized that Gordon wasn't all fine and dandy.

Gordon was looking at me as though my statement was irrelevant. "What's that got to do with me talking to him?"

Virgil threw in his own two cents. "Maybe you should just try to relax today, Gords."

Gordon's eyes narrowed and he looked between Virgil and I with anger. "What the hell are you two doing?"

We both literally backed up. Gordon is not known for mood swings or anger. I was wondering if the heat or lack of food was starting to affect his personality.

When we didn't answer he continued, pointing at Scott. "This is Scott. Scott. You remember him, right? Our brother... The guy who took care of everything when mom died... The guy who put his career on halt when I was in a coma... The guy who three weeks ago offered himself up as a hostage when a guy pulled a gun on Alan. You know him? Scott..."

I looked at Scott, who looked just as perturbed as we were, and then back to Gordon.

Still not receiving a response, Gordon glared. "Really? You're protecting me from _Scott_? Really? Let me give you guys a clue. Scott doesn't scare me. If he has something to say to me, then I want to hear it. And to be perfectly honest, I don't understand how everyone can be all, 'Oh, you're terrified of outerspace? Oh, well, that's okay, no big deal.' Because it's not okay and it was a big deal. I want to know what Scott honestly thinks and I don't want people pussyfooting around me. If he's got a problem with my actions, I want to know about it. I may not be one hundred percent, but I'm not a fragile piece of glass. And again, it's _Scott._"

I had no idea what to say. Although...Gordon had a point. It _was_ Scott. And yes, Scott did have a temper and he wasn't always the most understanding, but he always looked after us. Okay, Gordon wanted to talk to him. Well then...

"Okay, so you two talk and I'll help Virg."

All three of my brothers seemed surprised. It was Virgil who spoke. "You sure you want to do that? It may invoke the wrath of Alan..."

I laughed, but I was willing to risk it. For the first time in 5 days, I looked at Scott. "If you guys want to talk, I'll cover for you...and I need to talk to you too."

He nodded. "Yeah. After Gordon?"

I agreed and Scott turned to Virg. "Is that okay with you?"

There was warning in his eyes. "Doesn't really matter what I think, does it?"

"Great! Let's go. Is it okay if we go to my room?" Gordon was wiggling his toes and bouncing on his bare feet.

Scott questioned him. "Where are your shoes?"

Gords shrugged. "With John's, on the patio."

Shaking his head in exasperation, Scott took my brother by the upper arm and spun him towards the large metal wall. Then, with a hand in the middle of Gordon's back, he marched them both to the elevator.

Once they were gone I turned to Virg. He was seething. Great, couldn't wait to work with him...

* * *

_The verse of the song, Sloop John B. that was used in this chapter was written by Carl Sandburg, although the version featured here was as performed by The Beach Boys. No copyright infringement is intended. _

_The song Yellow Submarine was written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Again, no copyright infringement is intended._

_In case anyone's curious, in real life, the Thunderbirds' 'Yellow submarine' came 3 years before the song._


	11. Scott

_Wow! I am SO sorry for the insane delay there. I ended up going away on vacation. I got back yesterday and was all ready to post, but then, when I re-read it, I wasn't happy. So I re-wrote the chapter 3 times and didn't like any of them. Then I re-read the first version and figured out what the issue was. So, I've fixed it. I think... Anywho, I hope it turned out okay._

_Thanks to all of you for not forgetting the story! And thanks to Whirlgirl for that amazing review!  
_

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* * *

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**Chapter 11: Scott-**

Noticing my stare, my brother shook the anger off his face. He looked at my feet. "Go get a pair of uniform boots and put them on before you step on a nail."

Good thinking. Running to my quick change closet, I changed into my 'work outfit' that I reserved for working on the Thunderbirds. It was really just a pair of blue overalls, a t-shirt, and some sneakers, but I didn't want to get my everyday clothes dirty. Not that they weren't already. I was folding my shorts and sand was falling over everything. Damn it. Now I was going to have to clean this whole closet.

"John! What the hell are you doing in there? Just put on the boots and let's go!"

I decided to hang the shorts up. This way they'd dry and maybe I could brush the sand off before putting them in the wash. Okay, enough, I needed to get out before Virgil took his anger out on me.

With my clothes all situated I ran back out into the hangar and over to my brother. He was standing with his arms folded, an 'are you kidding' look on his face. He looked me over. "Nice outfit."

"Thanks?"

Sighing, he turned and began his way up the steps into Three. I followed. Once we were in the main control room, he handed me an extra long Q-tip and some cleaning solution. He pointed to a spot on the panel by the radar altimeter switches. "Scott was up to here. I'm doing the panel overlay."

I gave a short laugh. Why did that not surprise me? Working together, without actually working together. I took up where my brother left off as Virgil resumed wiping down the overlay.

"Hey Virg?"

"Yeah."

I bit my lip, hesitant about what I wanted to ask. At least with us both cleaning, I could avoid eye-contact. "Um, how would you describe me?"

"What?"

There was one particular spot that was so sticky it was pulling the cotton off the stick. I grabbed another Q-tip from the near-by bag. "Like, if you were going to set me up with a woman and she didn't know me at all, how would you describe me?"

"Why would I be setting you up with a woman? If I knew someone to set you up with, I'd be dating her myself."

I sighed. Why couldn't he just make this easy? "Virg, seriously. How would you describe me?"

"John, this is ridiculous. I'm not going to describe you."

Why? "Why?"

"Why? Because you're my brother. What the hell do I need to describe you for?"

Almost half the spot had come up by now; onto the next Q-tip. "I just want to know how I come off to people."

"Why? Did someone tell you you come off stupid or something?"

Freakin' sticky sugar... I scrubbed harder. Out damn spot! "Gordon... he told me everyone sees me as a cold person."

"Gordon's a dimwit."

That almost made me laugh.

"Really, John. You can't take anything he says seriously-"

"He meant it seriously. It wasn't a joke."

"I'm sure he did. But what Gordon says and thinks changes on a minute to minute basis. What's in his head comes out his mouth. So he said to you, 'John, everyone thinks you're a cold person'. Right now he's probably telling Scott, 'I've always thought John's a really thoughtful guy'."

Maybe. The issue was that everything Gordon said, I'd always worried was true. That was my real problem.

"Why'd he say that anyway?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I think he was trying to compliment me."

I heard my brother laugh. "Sounds about right for him."

Finally! The spot was gone. I doused the cotton swab in more of the solution and began cleaning underneath the dial for the right glareshield. "But honestly Virg, would you describe me as a cold person?"

"No. But then, I don't think that adjective would come to mind if I had to describe anyone."

Well that was vague. Thanks a lot, bro. "Do you think of me as uncaring?"

I heard his loud, exasperated sigh. "Right now I'm thinking of you as obsessive..."

I rolled my eyes and moved over to cleaning around the 'He press/vapor isol' switches.

"Look, John. You're introverted. Okay? I don't think you'd disagree there..."

I nodded- no disagreement.

"So, to Gordon who is extroversion personafied, you may come off as... I don't know... less emotional, I guess. I mean look who it's coming from. You're very reserved in how you express your feelings, Gordon's the exact opposite. He doesn't know the meaning of the word: reserve. As I said, in his head, out his mouth."

I wasn't saying that I wanted to be like Gordon. I mean... shoot me. But I also didn't like the idea that I was so introverted or _reserved_ that nobody really knew me. My whole life seemed to be me watching from the sidelines. Growing up, my brother's were always getting into trouble. I hated it. I liked to follow the rules. So I'd go with them until they came up with their risky, disobedient scheme. I'd ask them not to do it, they'd ignore me. Then they'd all run off and do whatever it was and I'd be standing there worrying that they were going to get hurt or get in trouble. I hated that I wasn't with the group. I hated it.

"Virg, do you feel like you know me?"

Behind me, my brother whined. "Now what? What? Did Gordon say nobody knows you or something?"

I winced. "Yes."

"Okay, what part of dimwit aren't you comprehending. You know, for a genius, you can be really thick."

I sighed and turned around. "I agree with him. Okay? That's why I'm upset. He said that everyone always thought I was a cold person because nobody really knows me. And I'm not here a lot and I _am_ introverted, as you said. So I'm worried now-"

He stopped me with a hand. "We know you, John. Fine. You're pushing me into it, but for the sake of ending this hellhole of a conversation, I'll do it." He took a deep breath and resumed his cleaning. "How do people think of you? They think of you as exceptionally intelligent and dependable; a logical thinker with a clear head who is rational and doesn't let his emotions interfere with making the best decision possible. People also think you're kind of dull."

Well that was blunt.

"What are you actually like? You like everything in your life to be organized, to the point that you're anal. You don't like to break, or even bend, the rules. You are happiest when everything is calm, structured, and life is in a predictable pattern- which is why you like being on Five so much. Down here is too chaotic and being on Five allows you to be a big part of IR and the family without the constant chaos. On Five _you _are the one who calls us into action, being down here and never knowing when that alarm's going to go off stresses you out. You're the most brilliant person I have ever met- and that includes Brains. Yet, at the same time, you can be very naïve and way too trusting. You are extremely kind and thoughtful, to the point that you let people- especially your family- walk all over you. As much as you avoid chaotic or anxiety-producing situations, whenever you're in one, you handle yourself extremely well. You would turn tail at any sign of danger if it was just you, but if someone else is in trouble, you'd stay and face anything. You dislike confrontation or any discussion that involves a lot of emotion. However, just as with the danger, if someone else is hurt or in trouble, you're willing to confront anything to help them. You like to keep a physical and emotional distance from other people, but you love your family and wish you had a girlfriend. More thoughts go on in your head then you ever express and you wish people could see how deep you really are and how much you really care. There. How'd I do? Do you think I know you well enough?"

I was frozen to the spot. I had never felt so transparent in my life. How... I mean... How did he know my thoughts?

"Well?"

I nodded at him, now mortified that I made him do that and frightened by his accuracy.

"We can move on from this topic then and you'll stop obsessing about a moron's ramblings?"

I nodded again. "Yeah, I'm good now."

My brother looked to the roof with an exhale. "Thank, God."

Suddenly both our watches beeped. I hit the communicator button on mine. It was Scott. I could hear Gordon voice coming through Virgil's. Scott spoke to me. "Come up to Gordon's room."

Next to me, Virgil was questioning Gordon. "Why?"

I heard my younger brother's answer through the watch. "We're going over what happened on Five."

I nodded to my wrist. "FAB."

With the communications now off, I turned to Virgil. His whole face was red. "I'm going to kill him."

My brows went up. Who was he killing? Gordon? More likely Scott... Before I could ask though, Virgil was crouching his way out of the flight deck and moving to exit the ship. Once again, I followed.

When we began walking across the hangar, he called back to me. "Do _not_ change back into your regular clothes."

Of course I wouldn't do that. They had to be washed. Plus, I didn't know if I'd be coming back here... I suddenly noticed that Virg was in the elevator. Ceasing my thoughts, I ran to catch up.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTB

When we arrived at the room, we found Scott standing by the closet, Gordon seated on his bed and Alan in the lounge chair, with his feet up. Al shook his head at me as I entered. "John, we will be discussing your punishment later. When I gave Scott the job of cleaning Three, I meant for _Scott_ to do it."

Cute. I'm sure the look on my face let him know how I felt about his channeling of dad. Walking over to my youngest brother, I pulled the ottoman out from under his legs and sat down. Alan growled, but said nothing.

"Scott, can I speak with you in the hall please?" Virgil's face had gone from red to purple.

Scott actually smiled at him, a smug smile, and slowly shook his head 'no'.

Virgil's hands clenched to fists. "Scott, now."

My oldest brother seemed to find this amusing. "No. If there's something you want to say, say it here."

Okay, obviously Scott knew what Virg was going to say _and_ he knew that he didn't want to say it in front of the rest of us. "Fine. I think he should have more time before having to discuss this. _And_ as I recall, Father and Brains were of the same opinion. _You_ were out-voted."

Standing up from the bed, Gordon offered, "Um, hi... I don't know who did the 'voting,' but being the person in question, I think I should get the only vote. And I'm gonna talk about it- unless you plan on taping my mouth shut."

The smug expression remained to Scott's face. Looking around our oldest brother, Virgil sighed at Gordon. "Gords, I really think you should just relax for awhile. You're not even really eating yet. Just give your body some time to recover before dragging yourself through all of it again."

Before Gordon could respond, Scott interjected, "Now you're stifling him."

Virgil glared. "I am _not_ stifling him. I just want him to understand that there's no rush-"

"He understands that."

"Oh, you can read his thoughts now?"

Scott was getting louder. "We should be handling this as a family. Right now, we're all split up, every man for himself, how's that supportive?"

Stepping forward, Virgil answered. "We've discussed this, Scott. And news flash, _you _are not the team! _You _don't get to make unilateral decisions! And you can be supportive without making him talk about everything."

"He just said he wants too!"

Before Virgil could respond, Gordon got in between them. "Bert, Ernie, enough. Both of you shut up. I said I'd go through everything and I meant it."

Virgil eyed him. "I look like a gay puppet to you?"

Gords smiled. "You know, I hadn't even been thinking that, but now that you mention it..."

Growing serious again, Virgil went to speak, but Gordon stopped him. "Virg, I heard what you said. Thank you, but it's fine. I have no problem debriefing everyone."

Scott looked over Gordon's shoulder at Virgil. "You act like he was kidnapped and tortured for three weeks."

And now they were arguing _around_ Gordon.

"He lost all his hair-"

"Because he hadn't eaten or slept-"

"And why do you think that is-"

"I don't _know_ why. I still don't know what exactly happened!"

Next to me, Alan whined putting his hands over his face and leaning back in the chair. He was right, this was freaking ridiculous now.

"Virgil, shut up!" Apparently, even Gordon was losing his patience. "Just stop fighting! Stop it. Stop. Virg, shut up and sit down and don't speak again until _after_ I've gone through everything." Then he turned around. "And Scott, stop egging him on."

"Fine. Do what you want. I don't care what you do." Virgil walked over to the wall and leaned against it, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

With Virgil out of the way, Gordon began his synopsis. He went over the entire three and a half days in detail- leaving out only our personal conversations. Towards the end of the recap though, his awareness was getting a little distorted- to say the least. He remembered taking the pills and remembered not being able to breathe, but didn't remember telling me that he wanted to die. I filled that in for him.

"I said that?"

I nodded.

He scratched his bald head in thought. "That's bizarre. I... honestly, I'm not lying, I really, really don't remember _ever_ thinking that. I remember thinking that I was _going_ to die and _not_ wanting that to happen... Maybe my words came out wrong."

It was possible; he _had _been insane at the time. I was relieved to know that he hadn't thought that though.

"I don't remember much after running in the main room and thinking I was having a heart attack. I have _no_ memory of getting on Three. I do remember spewing all over the controls though, and you yelling at me."

I shrugged. "We were re-entering the atmosphere, if those controls fried, we'd be incinerated."

"And _we'd _have no idea what happened, why you left Five, or how you died."

I froze at Scott's statement. I really had never thought of that before now. I mean, I had spoken with my father about turning off Three's communications, but Scott was absolutely right. If Gordon and I died on the way back, our family would never have known anything. I suddenly felt unbelievably guilty. I covered my face with my hands. This was totally on me. Gordon was catatonic at the time. _I_ was the one who kept everyone in the dark.

The room was silent. I knew I had to say something, but I couldn't even look at them. How could I have done that to my family? How could I have been so thoughtless? Oh my God. I _should_ be fired. How could my father still keep me on?

Okay, I had to say _something_. Be a man, John. Stand up and admit you were wrong. I could do that, that wasn't the issue. How could my brothers ever trust me again?

I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. "John?" It was Virgil. I lowered my hands and looked to my left. Virg was crouched next to me. "Are you okay?"

I nodded and swallowed. "Yeah, fine."

I looked up at my brothers. They all looked concerned. Weird. "I'm sorry. I don't..." What was I going to say? I couldn't give them an excuse. There was no excuse for my inconsiderate, dangerous, and unprofessional behavior. "...There's no excuse for my cutting off the communications with Three or not informing you of the difficulties Gordon was having. If you no longer feel comfortable working with me, I'll leave IR."

"Leave IR?" The question was blasted at me from all angles.

"John, please don't leave IR." Alan looked petrified. I didn't blame him, without me, he would be the only astronaut. Given his relationship with Tin-Tin, that had to be a scary thought.

Scott raised his hand placatingly. "John, you are probably the most rational and professional person I have ever known. As long as you understand where poor decisions were made, I have no doubt that you won't repeat them."

I nodded. "I won't."

"That's good enough for me."

Virgil and Alan agreed. Gordon said nothing, but the look on his face let me know that he didn't feel that he was in a position to say anything. After all, he wasn't innocent either.

With me settled, my oldest brother turned back to Gordon. "Gords, I get everything you said. What I can't understand is where everything went wrong. I can understand your going insane from sleep deprivation. I get that. I just... I really don't understand why you were so upset. I mean, you're a thrill-seeker for Pete's sake! You've never been scared of anything-"

"That's not true." We all looked at Gordon as he spoke. "I'm afraid of a lot of things, it's just, normally I'm brave enough to just go through it. Then I conquer it and I'm like, 'Yeah! Kicked your ass fear!'" He began studying his hands with a sad expression. "I couldn't do it this time."

I chimed in. "It wasn't for lack of effort or bravery, the terror just affected you physically this time. It was no longer a matter of controlling your emotions-"

"Yes it was because my emotions are what caused the physical problems."

Scott interrupted us. "Okay. Hang on. Gords, can you just explain to me what it was about being up there that frightened you? I'm still having a hard time picturing this."

Gordon went to respond, but my dejected brother on the wall paused him. "He debriefed you on what happened. He's still showing the physical affects of trauma- drop it."

Gordon shook his head. "No, it's fine. Let's just get this over with. I don't want to have this conversation hanging over my head anymore."

Huh... So it was possible that Gordon really _didn't_ want to discuss this. He just felt that he had too. To be honest, I'd have rathered just put the whole thing behind us and moved on as well.

With slight tremors coursing through his skin, Gordon explained his fears. "I guess it was where we were and the fact that I'd be alone that bothered me. I don't like being alone and I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that I would be by myself up there, no one else with me... You know, there's no way out of there. I mean, once Three's gone, you can't leave. You're stuck there. I don't..." The breaths were coming quicker now. I scooted forward on my chair- I knew where we were headed, but maybe Scott would understand better if he saw the panic.

Virgil went to move, but I caught his eye and shook my head at him. He didn't look pleased, but he held back.

Having never seen my brother panic before, Scott was unaware of the signs. He questioned Gordon more. "So? How's that any different from when you're on Four?"

"It's not the same. If I die in Four, I'm on Earth. If I die in Five, I'm not."

Blinking, Scott shook his head. "Who cares? If your dead, your dead. You wouldn't know _anything_ anymore-"

"I don't believe that."

"What? You believe you'd be a ghost stuck on a satellite?"

Gordon's hands were _visibly _shaking now and he was pacing back and forth- clearly agitated. "No. I don't know... I believe in Heaven. I want to be with mom. If I'm that far away... I mean, what if something happened and I went floating out? You just keep going. There's no air to push against to propel you back to Earth. You're just stuck, getting further and further away for all eternity. Forever. I can't... I don't want..." He was outright gasping now. Alan went to get up, but I shook my head at him. He looked confused, but backed down.

"I just couldn't stop thinking about it up there. I couldn't." The tears fell. "I didn't want to be there. I have never not wanted to be somewhere more than I did up there. But I knew everyone else had done it. I knew I was being irrational. I didn't want to fail." He looked at Scott. "I didn't want to let the team down, but I couldn't... I couldn't..."

Every part of him was shaking now. Finally, Scott intervened. He moved to my brother, grasping his shoulders. "Okay, it's okay. It's over, you're here. You're not up there anymore. Breathe, Gordon. It's all right."

Gords was sobbing and he covered part of his face with a quivering hand- no doubt embarrassed. He leaned forward against our brother's chest and Scott hugged him back. Gordon's muffled voice returned. "I'm so sorry you guys."

Virgil and Alan both answered at the same time, assuring him that there was nothing to apologize for and it was fine that if he couldn't be on Five.

I added. "I told him that already. It's fine, Gordon. You didn't let anyone down. You gave it everything you had- including your hair. It's fine."

He nodded and pulled back wiping his eyes. He looked at Scott. "Scott?"

My older brother sighed and leaned back against the trophy case. "You didn't let me down, Gords. I'll admit, I'm a little concerned about this happening again, but that's mainly because you weren't very clear about why you didn't want to do your time on Five to begin with."

And looking at his hands again. "I didn't realize how bad it was until I was up there. It was like the further up I got on Three, the more panicked I was... and then I couldn't shut it off. It wouldn't leave my head."

Pushing himself off the shelving unit, Scott nodded. "All right, well, I know you both spoke with Father about keeping us in the dark..."

I nodded and Gordon spoke. "Yeah, won't happen again. I have no intention of letting what's left of my pride get in the way of doing the right thing."

With a clap of his hands, Scott spoke. "Okay, well that's all I-"

Scott broke off as he saw Gordon turn completely white and sway. I jumped up but before any of us could move, his eyes rolled back and he crumpled. With a leap, Scott managed to get a knee under our brother's torso and quickly maneuvered an arm around Gord's back and under his armpit. It wasn't the best position to hold him up, but at least he stopped him from hitting the floor.

In the blink of an eye, the rest of us moved in and helped Scott drag Gordon to the bed. By the time we laid him down, he was already coming to. I backed up to get out of the way.

Virgil was crouched down next to the bed. My other brothers backed off as well, concern written on their faces. We watched as Virg tapped our brother's face. "Gordon?"

Slowly, his eyes blinked open. The blank stare worried me for a moment, but then, a light seemed to turn on and awareness entered his eyes. He moaned and covered his face with his hands. "I can't believe I fainted."

Relief spread through the room as we all relaxed. I interjected reality into my brother's fantasy of invincibility. "No food for five days and a three mile walk in 110 degree heat."

From the bed, he nodded. "I'm good, sorry guys." He grimaced. "I can't believe it, but I think I need another nap. I'm so pathetic."

Virg stood up, pushing his hands off his knees. "_I _think you need to try eating more. You're not going to heal unless we can get food into you."

My brother rolled onto his side. "Yeah, I guess I could try again. I think my stomach shrunk though."

Virgil shrugged. "Could have. You just need to eat more often then." He looked around at the group. "Okay, we're done here. The debrief is over. Alan, go back to your business meeting. I'm going back to Three." He turned back to Gordon. "I'll ask grandma to bring in another shake for you."

My youngest brother looked down at Gordon and then, upon receiving a grin of permission, he sprinted out of the room. I laughed. Al was still excited about being Father's second-in-command.

Grinning at our younger brother's antics, Virg turned to leave. As he passed Scott though, the amusement left and his eyes became hard. "I'll finish Three without you. Stay away from me."

Scott sighed. "Virg, I-"

Virgil's hands shot out and Scott went flying backwards into Gordon's trophy stand. Trophies clanked into each other and hit the floor. The aggressor left the room.

Gordon pushed himself up onto an elbow and I ran over to help Scott to his feet. He rubbed his back as he stood. "Are you alright?"

He nodded, a guilty expression adorning his face. "I deserved that one. He was right, Gordon needed more time before talking about it. I shouldn't have gone against the team's decision and pushed him to talk."

Laying back on the bed, Gords closed his eyes and answered him. "It was _my_ decision. You two don't control me. I can talk about whatever I want. If I want to talk about something, I'll talk about it."

"You never talk about the hydrofoil accident."

Scott responded for him. "He doesn't remember it."

I wasn't sure that was entirely true.

Gordon sighed and snuggled down into the pillows. "Let me repeat. It's my decision what I talk about. If I want to discuss something, I will, if I don't, I won't. I don't _want_ to talk about that. I just want to forget it. _This,_ I wanted everyone to know about because I needed to know that no one was ashamed of me or unable to work with me. But it's over now. I'm not talking about it anymore...ever. And no jokes." He opened an eye and looked at us. "Please."

I smiled. "I can only promise to do my best."

He grinned in return and shut the eye.

I looked at Scott. "I'm sorry I got on your case up there."

Picking up some of the fallen trophies, he asked, "Was I really that mean or was it because Gordon was fragile."

"I'm not fucking fragile."

I ignored the bed. "It was a little of both, but I am sorry."

He nodded. "Okay." The trophy display now back in order, he turned back to me. "I think, if you're up to it, it would be best if you, Alan, and _either _Virgil or myself went out on the next few calls."

Yeah, I should think so. "I'm up to it."

"Good." He looked at the bed and smiled. "He's sleeping."

"No I'm not. I'm just waiting for Grandma. You think I want Virgil kicking my ass too?"

I winced, remembering my outfit. I _was_ already changed... and I was the one who had flown her down... "Taking my life in my hands, but I think I'm going to go help Virgil with Three."

He laughed. "Good luck. I'll keep Baldie company..."

"You are _not_ calling me Baldie."

"How about The Eagle then?"

"Naming me after something that flies? I don't think so."

I laughed walking down the hall, my brothers' banter fading behind me.

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_So... don't hate me, but I'm going on vacation again from Friday to the following Sunday. Therefore, the final chapter, will probably be posted on 8/16...ish. As always, love to hear from you!  
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	12. Epilogue

_Hi all! SO sorry it took me so long. I did have a lovely vacation and I'm back now. So here is chapter 12. But, see, the thing is, it kind of ran away with me, so, um, there'll be a chapter 13... I hope you're all not annoyed with me. I just couldn't fit it in one chapter._

_Thanks to all who are still reading and to those who have reviewed. And thanks to Whirlgirl who I can't reply to._

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**Chapter 12: Epilogue-**

A week and a half of rest and my brother was well along his way to healing. He had been eating solid food for the past four days and the weight he had lost was already starting to return. His spirit was mending too. The talk he had with all of us, although it took him out, seemed to ease his fears just a bit. From the conversations I had with him, I knew he was still bothered by the fact that he had a nervous breakdown and I also knew that he was still a little concerned about what Scott thought of him. And of course, he was still missing all of his hair, but, all in all, he was doing better.

Scott, on the other hand, was not recovering nearly as well. Although he and Virgil weren't avoiding each other, they were definitely not on good terms. The animosity wasn't coming from Scott, it was all Virg. Ever since the day Gordon had given his debrief, Virgil was being 'formally polite' and nothing more.

We had gone out on two rescues, both over the past weekend. Scott went on one and Virgil went on the other. Alan and I did double duty, not that we minded. Heck, Al was thrilled to death when he got to fly One and operate the command in Scott's stead. However, this was not a situation that could continue indefinitely. We had dangerous jobs. We all needed to be focused and holding a grudge was not a good thing. On every mission there was the chance that someone wouldn't return.

"I was thinking..." Alan gained my attention as he grabbed three pieces of bacon off the breakfast tray. We were all seated around the red-clothed table for our morning meal. With the tension between our eldest brothers, things were unnaturally quiet, although my two youngest brothers had been doing their best to fill the silence. "...you know what we haven't done in a long time?"

We all shook our heads and Al continued. "Paintball."

I raised my brows at that. Paintball on the island was not just paintball. It was a training regime designed to sharpen our skills at tracking, hunting, and evading. We all came armed, in electronically wired camouflaged uniforms. The uniforms picked up each hit and then judged based on angle and force, if the paintball had been a bullet, would we be dead, maimed, or okay. Then, once we were 'fatally wounded', a signal would broadcast from the dead man's uniform letting everybody on the island know of his demise.

I hated paintball. I was always paired with Brains and we were _always_ the first team taken out. Usually within the first 3 minutes. Once, I got a particularly good hiding spot and made it to 5 minutes... Had I mentioned my hatred for paintball?

"I was just thinking that since everyone's home, we should make the most of it. Team up for a good old-fashioned brotherly gun fight."

A sudden thought popped in my head. I knew why Alan was suggesting it, Scott and Virg were always teamed up, this would force them to work together. But, I was tired of losing. I wanted to win for once in my life... or at least make it past 5 minutes.

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Alan." My brother grinned under my father's praise.

Scott stole a glance at Virg who was stabbing his food with a little too much force.

"That's great, Al! I can't wait to get out there and hunt you guys down!" Obviously... Gordon's enthusiasm was shaking the table again.

Virgil spoke before I could. "Gords, turn the energy down a notch, would you? The plates are vibrating their way to the edge of the table."

Popping up, Gordon put his knees on the chair and sat on his feet. "Sorry." His hands were already taking over for his legs, but although noisy, his hands weren't in a position shake the entire table.

My father spoke again. "Alright, then, you can all meet as teams to discuss your strategies after breakfast. Combat will take place at noon."

Taking in the faces of everyone around the table, I finally decided to speak up. "I have a request."

The all turned to me. Hoping Brains wouldn't be offended, I said my piece. "It seems to me that in the past our teams have not been... evenly distributed. At least not as far as skill with hunting and evading goes." Out of the corner of my eye I could see Brains nodding and all my brothers frowning. Well, at least Brains wasn't upset.

"I would like to suggest new teams."

Alan and Scott's eyes squinted, Virgil looked relieved, and next to me, Gordon beamed. "Whatcha thinkin', Johnny?"

I had a feeling that Gords knew at least part of what I was thinking. It was actually really encouraging to see he was eagerly anticipating my reworking of the teams.

"I'm thinking... that TinTin is starting her training, so she should be included, and to keep the teams even, dad could help us out."

TinTin looked absolutely thrilled at my including her. Alan's eyes, on the other hand, seemed to narrow even more. My father was clearly amused. "I would certainly be willing to help, although, I feel I should admit that my reflexes are not what they once were."

Gordon grinned at him. "No, but you're still a great shot, dad."

My father returned the smile. "I will admit to that as well."

We all laughed and I took the opportunity to lay out my proposition for the new teams. "So here's what I propose: Scott and Father; Virg and Brains; Alan and TinTin; and Gordon and me."

"Ha!" Gordon was laughing. "That's great, John! I love it." He clapped me on the shoulder. "I cannot _wait_ to take out Scott and dad!"

That got Scott to raise a brow. "If I were you, Gordon, I wouldn't be so confident. Personally, I don't think the teams are evenly matched. Father and I have a clear advantage."

Gords laughed at him. "Over me and John?"

My eldest brother shook his head. "Over everyone. And you and John... well, you're not 100% and John... well, John... he..."

"Sucks at this." Alan was glaring at me. Clearly he didn't appreciate being teamed with TinTin. Maybe he thought it outed them; although TinTin, herself, seemed like she was through the moon. Or maybe Alan was upset because he was losing Gordon as a partner... and as much as I 'sucked at this,' that's how good Gordon was.

I was not in disagreement with my brother's evaluation of my skills. I held up my hands in surrender. "I fully admit to sucking and I'm very willing to have an 80% Gordon as my partner. I think Brains will agree with me that the previous team set-ups left both myself and Brains at a great disadvantage."

Brains nodded. "Ye, yes. I, I will also admit to uh, sucking."

I chuckled along with my father and Gordon. Scott relented. "Fine. If you guys think it's fair. I still think you're at a real disadvantage."

Alan opened his mouth to say something- the look on his face indicating it would be a complaint- but then, seeing TinTin smiling at him, he abruptly shut his mouth and fell back in his chair, sulking. I held in my laugh. He must really love her. Alan was not one to repress his feelings.

"Well the new teams are fine with me. Brains, you ready to discuss strategy?"

"Uh, yes, yes, Virgil."

And with that, my brother and our team engineer, left the table.

My grandmother stood up and began shooing us all away. "Alright, well, it sounds like you all have a lot to plan. You're all done here. Kyrano and I will take care of this. You boys get going." Then she smiled at TinTin. "And good luck, dear. Don't let them intimidate you. You grew up in these jungles; you use that to your advantage."

TinTin grinned back. "Yes, Mrs. Tracy."

Gordon was whining. "Grandma, whose side are you on?"

Holding up her hands, my grandmother answered, "I'm not on anyone's side, dear. You know I love you all equally. May the best woman win."

TinTin and my father chuckled. "All right, Scott? Let's retreat to my office."

With a nod, Scott was gone. Gordon poked me and nodded to the back hall. "Let's go."

Still smiling, I got up and followed him out of the main room.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTB

I ducked at the tree branch that was flung at my head. Tromping through the jungle was so not my thing. I slapped my neck. Damn mosquitoes. Thank God Gordon told me to change into my jungle fatigues. The loafers I was wearing before would be covered in dirt and who knows what else right now. Plus, this outfit covered me- sunburn, bugs, and animals wouldn't be a worry. I'd take intense heat over insects any day.

We were 10 minutes into the jungle when I finally stopped my brother. "Gords, where the hell are we going?"

He stopped, held up a hand, and slowly turned in a circle. Then, with a nod, he looked at me. "We're going to survey the area."

What? We lived here; what was to survey? "What do you mean survey-"

He rolled his eyes. "John, when was the last time you went running through the jungle?"

I searched my memory... and came up with nothing. Better question was, when was the last time I was even in the jungle? When was the last time we all played paintball? "I have no idea."

With a nod, my brother turned and continued his march through the trees. "Right. And I haven't been through here in a few months. If we're going to be hunting people, we'd better well know the terrain like the back of our hands." He looked back at me. "Especially since you brought TinTin into this. She's in this jungle every day."

My brother faced forward once again and I raised my brows at his back. It never would have even occurred to me to survey the area. Was this something he always did?

Gordon and Alan had the current championship record in our paintball matches. They were ahead of Virgil and Scott by one. It would definitely be interesting to see-

"Oofff." I bounced back and rubbed my nose, having walked straight into my brother.

He grimaced and rubbed his cheek where my nose had hit it. "Okay, John. You picked me to be your partner..."

Letting go of my throbbing face and wiping sweat from my forehead, I agreed. "Yeah, you're good with shooting and you have a good record with this stuff."

He laughed at me. Not just casually laughing, he was laughing _at_ me. He obviously knew something I didn't...

"John, do you want to win today?"

Of course I wanted to win, but even with Gordon, my chances were slim. To win, _both_ team members had to survive. "I think my goal is to make it past 5 minutes. 10 minutes would be great."

Suddenly, my brother was serious. "I want a serious answer, John. Do you want to win- or do you not really care?"

I shifted in my unease. I wasn't used to Gordon being so somber. "Yeah, of course I'd want to win, but Gords, seriously, I'm really bad at this. I mean, I don't think I can just pick up tips from you in 4 hours and survive the game. Maybe if we had a month..."

He smiled at me, with that 'I know something, you don't' look on his face again, and clapped me on the shoulder. "John... if you want to win, we will win. You won't need to do anything you can't already do."

Okay, now he was completely weirding me out. Was he talking about cheating? What the hell? How could he be so confident that we would win? "You're awfully confident, Gords."

Sucking in his lips, he stepped back, and surveyed me thoughtfully. After a few moments, he spoke. "If I tell you something, do you think you'd be able to keep it to yourself under all circumstances?"

Now I backed up. First Gordon's all serious and now he asking me to keep a secret. I didn't know he had any secrets... He certainly wasn't good at keeping anyone else's. "Are you talking about cheating?"

The look on his face left no question in my mind that he wasn't. "Is that what you think of me?"

"No. But you're all serious and secretive... and you seem pretty positive that we're going to win..."

Crossing his arms, he stared me down, angrily. "I'm not positive that we'll win. I've never faced these specific teams, nor have I faced two of our new opponents. I've never been paired with you. I'm not taking anything for granted. But I'm also not a cheater. How _the hell_ could you _EVER_ accuse me of even _thinking_ about that?"

I backed up again. I had _never_ been on the receiving end of an angry Gordon in my life- not like this anyway. I'd gotten yelled at by him, but never this seething glare. I held up my hands and stuttered. "I, I, I'm sorry. I just didn't know where you were going with the secret thing. I'm sorry-"

"All right, John. Okay." My brother's voice was soft and all the tension was gone from his body. "It's all right."

He moved towards me. "I would never cheat... and I would never hurt you either. You shouldn't look like you're afraid of me."

My brows went up at that. I hadn't actually thought he was going to hurt me. He just startled me. Enough of this, moving on... "What was the secret?"

He shook his head. "Forget it." Then he pointed. "But it had nothing to do with cheating."

I nodded and didn't push the issue.

"Okay, if we're going to win this, we need to be in sync. First, is there anything, any skills, that you have that you don't think I'm aware of?"

Nope. But then, who knew? According to Gordon, he didn't know me at all up until a few weeks ago. The problem was, _I_ didn't know of any skills I had in this arena. "Uh, I can get all my shots on the target paper up to 75 yards..."

He grinned. "Well, don't hate me, but that's better than I thought... Okay, good. Ever shoot at a moving target?"

I shook my head.

"Okay, how long can you run for?"

I had no idea. I lived on a spaceship- not a lot of room for running. I shrugged. "Don't know... I haven't gone on a timed run in about a year."

"What about the treadmill on Five?"

There's a... oh yeah. "Yeah, I don't use that. I have other things to do up there. That's more Alan's. I keep it folded up in the storage closet."

With a chuckle, my brother rubbed his forehead. "Okay... Well, do you do any exercise?"

"Does typing count?" Seriously, did I really not ever exercise? I mean, I knew I wasn't particularly strong, but I didn't- "I lift weights..."

My brother's expression was a cross between amused and disbelieving. "You lift weights, and yet that didn't come to mind immediately?"

With a shrug, I leaned against a nearby tree.

"TinTin says don't lean against the trees."

I pulled my weight back onto my feet immediately. "May I ask why not?"

"Because you never know what's living in or on the tree Stand on your own two feet when you can. It's safer."

"Gordon, that's completely ridiculous. I've lived on this island; I've been in the jungle. You can lean against a tree."

"Fine, back to the issue at hand. How much do you lift?"

I thought... "Ten pounds, thirty reps per arm, every other day."

And my brother was laughing again. "Okay..." He went to say more but couldn't seem to stop chuckling. I waited, feeling inferior, as he regrouped himself. Finally, he cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh."

"You done then?"

He sobered up, the smile gone. "Yeah. I really am sorry. I shouldn't have laughed."

Wow. I didn't even need to say anything to get the apology- and it was sincere. Weird. "It's all right, Gords. You can laugh. I know I'm pathetic."

Remaining serious, Gordon shook his head. "No you're not. So strength isn't your thing. There's nothing pathetic about you, John. I consider myself to be pretty well fit and strong, but it was _you_ that held me up. _You're_ the reason I survived two weeks ago. My admiration and gratitude runs a lot deeper than you will ever understand."

His eyes bored into me and I felt frozen to the spot. I knew I was turning red and I had no idea what to say. I had gone over this with him a million times. I didn't want him to feel indebted to me; he obviously still did though.

Luckily, Gordon changed the subject, sparing my response. "John, would you be willing to follow my lead in the game today?"

"Uh, I think I'd prefer it, actually."

With a nod, my brother laid out our game plan. "Okay, then, here's what we're going to do. All you have to do is stay next to me. Be within 4 feet of me either to my right or my left. Once the game is on, you don't speak. No noise. If you're out of breath, breathe into your sleeve like this." He demonstrated bending over and breathing into his elbow. Standing up, he continued. "If you can't run or are tired, just stop, I'll direct you where to rest. If I do this," Gordon brought his fist up, perpendicular with the ground, "that means stop. If I point to something, that means run there and put your back up against where I pointed."

"I thought we don't lean on trees." I said with a grin.

My brother did not appear amused. "Do you want a play the game or do you want to train?"

"Aren't we doing both?"

Gordon shook his head. "If you really want to win, I will try my best to make that happen, but we can't be playing a game. It's not going to be fun. If you want to play paintball and have fun, I can do that too, but we're less likely to win that way. It's up to you. I'm up for either."

Now I was intrigued. "Okay, you lead I follow. You point, I run to whatever it is and put my back to it." I thought of something. "What if I'm not sure what you're pointing at?"

"If you're ever confused about a direction, hold up one finger. I'll take care of it."

I nodded and Gordon continued. "If I draw a circle in the air with my finger, it means I'm going hunting and you should be ready. I'll take some of them out myself, but I'll lead others to you. You just stay where you are and when they appear in front of you, shoot. I'll plan for Scott to go last unless we're forced to take him out earlier, but if I can put him off, I'll let you do the honors."

And now he was starting to freak me out. He was planning the order in which he would take people out? I mean, I knew Gordon was a great shot but this was insane. If I were listening to Scott, I would almost believe it- Scott's gift for strategy was unparalleled- but Gordon was not known for great planning. And yet, here he was, designing a hunting strategy that would bring our 'enemies' right to me.

"Do you have an issue with any of that?"

Whatever. I was just going to go with it and see where Gordon took us. It couldn't be any worse than the way this game normally went for me. "Someone in front of me, shoot. Check."

Gordon smiled. "Note to self, don't stand in front of John at any point. Check."

I laughed. "You should follow that because if you leave to go 'hunting' and then appear in front of me, I _will_ shoot you."

Chuckling, Gordon agreed. "Noted. Now, my guess would be that we're going to be hunted first."

That startled me. "What? Why?"

"Well," Gordon began walking through the jungle, snapping of twigs and disrupting the foliage everywhere he went, "you pissed off Alan, which means he and TinTin are probably conferring with Scott and dad right now to come up with a trap to get us. Alan knows me well. They'll play bait, hope I take it with you in tow, and then Scott or dad will be hiding in a tree somewhere. They shoot us, we're dead in three minutes and they're all, 'Ha! And Gordon and John thought they'd beat us?'"

Well that didn't sound very appealing...

"Now, there's also a chance Virgil and Brains are with them as well. Unlikely, but Al will be the initiator, so he could get everyone in on it. I'll be prepared for Virgil to be working with them."

"Okay. So, where should we hide?"

My brother stopped short and turned around. "Hide?" He stared as though I was crazy. "John, we don't hide. We hunt them down and take them out." With that said, he resumed his walk. "While you're walking behind me, start working your feet in the dirt. Father, Scott, and TinTin are all good trackers. Let's let them know where we walk for the next four hours. After that, change into your IR boots. Scott wears his during these games and you're both the same size. It'll throw everyone. Especially since you _never_ wear your IR boots for anything other than IR."

I looked down at my feet. "Wait, is that why I'm wearing my jungle-gear?"

Gordon flashed a grin back at me.

Son of a... Huh. I guess Gordon did plan things out.

"By the way, you're not going to be wearing that outfit either later. It's way too heavy for this. I have an extra camo light-weight. It'll be a size too big, but better that then you passing out from heat stroke."

"What about the bugs?"

_Snap._ Another twig met it's demise. "You're going to get bit. Don't lean against the trees unless I point at it."

Oookay. I'm going to get bit? I sighed. Gord's light-weight camos were all t-shirts. I hated wearing t-shirts. "Can I wear the pants?"

"No. Shorts. We're going to be running a lot. You need to be cool and weight free. No back pack."

I stopped walking. "No pack? Where will I-"

"I'll carry it. Strap a knife to your ankle; wear the balls around your chest; I'll get everything else."

I ran to catch up. "A real knife?"

Gordon stopped and I ran into him again. He rolled his eyes at me. "Maybe we should practice walking next to each other." Sadly, that was probably a good idea. "And, yes, a real knife. Unless you have some fake ones you want to bring..."

I moved along side my brother as we continued our walk. "It's not real combat, Gordon."

He stopped again. "What is wrong with you?"

Right, right, not a game. But seriously, real knives? "I know you're 'not playing around' here, but I don't think real knives-"

"John. Are you telling me that when you and Brains are teamed up you come into this jungle unarmed?"

I froze, embarrassment creeping up my face. "Uh, well, we have backpacks..."

"Are there weapons in them? Something you can use if you need to free yourself or kill something?"

"I-" I opened my mouth and shut it again. I know it should have been obvious. I was a genius, I was in International Rescue... I mean, I always brought a first aide kit, a snake bite kit, Deet. It just never occurred to me to bring any real weapons.

Shaking his head, Gords resumed walking and I ran up next to him. "Before we start, I'll give a knife to Brains."

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_Okay, for real this time, the next chapter will be the last. And hopefully it will be up within the next few days. Please let me know what you think!_


	13. Epilogue part II

_Wow! I am SO sorry this took so long. I just kept writing and writing and writing... I'm very long-winded sometimes. I know, this was supposed to be the last chapter, but as I've said: long-winded. However, I'm posting this chapter and the next one (and last one) all at once, so there'll be no more waiting. I hope you enjoy them!_

_Thanks again to Whirlgirl! Your reviews really make my day!  
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**Chapter 13: Epilogue part II-**

Panting and doubled over, I ran to the tree my brother had pointed at. I brought my arm to my mouth and tried to breathe into my sleeve as he had demonstrated, but it seemed just as loud to me. Over to my right, back to another tree, stood Gordon. While I was doubled over and gasping, he didn't even seem to have broken a sweat. Gun held diagonal across his chest, he stood their silently, listening to the forest- and probably only hearing _my_ gasps.

We were both wearing thin, camouflage colored, water-wicking t-shirts and camouflage shorts. Upon knowing that I would be wearing only this, and that our arms and legs would be covered in greenish-brown body-paint, I was able to make my own contribution to our team. I found a way to integrate Deet into the paint mixture without compromising it's quality. So far, it was working, I hadn't been bitten yet.

And I had to hand it to Brains as well. The new sensor system that he had developed was so thin, I barely felt it on my skin. I was still fascinated how such tiny, silk-like strands could differentiate a paintball impact from someone running into a tree or falling on their face. Still, somehow, they did.

The new helmets he had designed were also much lighter. Originally, our helmets were just regular, wired, helmets. However, after Gordon came back from his first year in WASP and started shooting everyone between the eyes, we added the eye-shields. Don't get me wrong, Gordon always aimed for the helmet, he never actually hit anyone's face, but paint splatters. After some of it got into Virgil's eye... Well, it wasn't a good week in the Tracy household.

Gordon pointed to a tree about 50 yards in front of me. I nodded and we were off. I jumped over a log, cringed as I landed with a splash in some mud, and dodged branch after branch getting to my destination. Finally making it, I resumed my out-of-breath position. This time, Gordon was by my side at the tree.

He bent down and I could feel his breath on my ear. "Hold your breath for a minute."

Hold my breath for a minute? I hoped he didn't mean that literally because there was no way that was going to happen. Not all of us had swimmer's lungs. Sucking in a breath as deep as possible, I clamped my mouth shut. Next to me, Gordon was completely still, which I would have sworn was impossible.

Suddenly, his head swung to the right and he narrowed his eyes. Elbowing me, he pointed to a tree on the other side of the creek. I squinted, but saw nothing.

All my breath flew out in a large huff. My brother's brow raised, but he said nothing as I bent over, gasping again. As I tried again to catch my breath, I felt Gordon's gloved hand patting me on the back. I shrugged away from it and he stopped.

It took another minute, but eventually I got my breathing under control. I looked at my watch. Seven minutes. This was it. My record in this game. The longest I had ever survived.

To my left, the sound of leaves crunched. I turned to look, but an arm across my chest held me back. I looked at Gordon who shook his head at me while squinting across the creek and to my left. Once again I followed my brother's eyeline, and again, I saw nothing.

To my left, the crunches were getting louder. Somebody was coming. I turned to Gordon.

Seemingly oblivious to the footsteps, my younger brother was alternating his gaze back and forth between the tree on the right and the spot across the creek to the left. Suddenly he froze. Without moving his body, his eyes shifted as far right as he could go. Then, with swallowing hard, he leaned in towards me.

He spoke barely above a whisper. "We're surrounded by at least four. They're acting like they want us to go left, but it's _too_ obvious. When I lift my gun, I want you to shoot at the tree towards the right. It doesn't matter if you can't pick out Father as long as you aim mid-way in that tree. At the sound of my second shot, take off to the right and run to A6."

I nodded. I _so_ didn't want to die now. Eight minutes was still pathetic. I was on a new team. I really, really, really wanted to win this one. What was sad was that I had really believed Gordon when he made it sound like we had a shot at winning.

Crouching down, I saw my brother lift his gun and aim to my left across the creek. My hands were shaking as I quickly brought my own gun up to the tree and fired off two shots. Under me, Gordon shot once and then swung to the right and fired at ground level. A scream yelled out and we were both off in that direction.

Gordon was in front of me which meant _all_ the branches were smacking me in the face. Thank God for the helmet. I followed my brother's hop over Alan and continued running. I was starting to get out of breath again when Gordon suddenly jumped to the right, raised his gun, aimed for about half a second, and fired. A curse echoed through the jungle and we bolted again. It was a good three minutes of top-speed sprinting before we hit the rock pile we had earlier dubbed, 'A6'.

Gasping, I sat down behind one of the rocks and checked my signal band. As expected, Alan's light was out, but interestingly, Virgil's was as well. How the hell did Gordon even know Virg was there? I was unaware of anything other than flying tree branches and the sound of my own gasping. What was even more interesting was that was Gordon had killed Alan on his second shot, clearly we had both missed our original targets. Well, I guess nobody's perfect.

Still panting, I looked to my left to see what Gordon was up to. Once again, he seemed to be listening to the forest. Then, his eyes narrowed and he smiled. I swear, it was the creepiest thing I'd ever seen. He turned to me, pointed to my gun and made a circle in the air with his finger. Then, he winked, and took off into the trees.

For a moment, I just stared at the shaking leaves that he left in his wake. Not a game my ass. If he was treating this like real-life, he shouldn't be smiling like that. Although... I wouldn't put it past him to get some sort of sadistic pleasure from this in real-life too. I mean, it _was_ Gordon. He seemed to find fun in pretty much everything- well, except space.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps running this way. Oh shit! I wasn't ready! Quickly, I moved into a kneeling position and positioned my rifle to shoot in the direction that I had been facing when Gordon left me. I hoped that's where he was leading 'the prey' to. Hell, I hoped there was no one else hunting me while he was out hunting _them_. God I hated this game. My hands were still-

The trees moved in front of me and I fired. A high pitched scream followed.

"She's not dead, John. Finish her off!"

Finish her off? I couldn't even see her!

"John!"

I fired two more shots below where I had fired the first. I figured, if I hit her, she'd probably be on the floor...

"Let's go." Gordon grabbed my upper arm and we were off and charging through the jungle again. I stole a glance at the armband, which confirmed that I had, in fact, killed TinTin. Yep, that was me. Killed a girl. Gordon took out two men and I killed a girl in her first ever combat mission. Fantastic. Even better, the girl was _led_ to me. I didn't even take her out in a fair fight. Nope, I probably shot her in the back...

Gordon brought his fist up and I skittered to a stop. He had a confused look on his face. I was still-

My brother's hand shot out and covered my mouth. I guess I was breathing too loud. I glared at him and held my breath. He lowered his hand and stood still. Then, he cocked his head to the side looking utterly perplexed. I followed his gaze.

There, about twenty feet in front of us, was Brains. He was holding his gun up in front of himself swinging it from the left to the right in response to every sound. Oh God. Is that what I normally looked like? A walking anxiety attack?

I raised my gun, but I didn't want to kill him. I mean, Brains was my former teammate- and he was a mess. It just didn't seem right. I looked to Gordon before I shot. However, my brother was looking behind me, his eyes scanning the trees. Seeing my look, he flared his eyes at me.

What the hell did that mean? What was I supposed to be doing? Right, when confused, hold up a finger. Well how was I supposed to do that while I was holding a gun?

Rolling his eyes, Gordon swung around, brought his gun up and fired. Before Brains had even fallen, my brother pulled me and we were speeding through the trees again. We went about ten feet before a shot rang out and Gordon tackled me to the floor. Then he yanked me up and pushed me forward.

"A2."

A2 was a thick out-grove of trees at the edge of the widest part of the creek. I ran as fast as I could, gunshots firing at me from the left. My heart was pounding in my chest. Was Gordon still alive? I couldn't see him. Had he gotten hit when he tackled me? Was _I_ still alive? I hadn't felt a paintball hit, but Gordon had been landing on me at the time.

Another shot rang out and blue splatter appeared on a tree to the right of me. Gordon knocked into me and pushed me to the right. I guess we were ditching the A2 plan then...

Three more shots rang out, this time from two different directions.

"Shit!" I heard Gordon curse and then felt him push me into a tree, covering my body with his own. Well, this was awkward. Not to mention painful. My body was being squished against the tree, but because of the eye shield, that part of my head couldn't hit the tree, which meant my neck was bent back at an extraordinarily uncomfortable position. And he was shielding me? Really? _Both_ of us had to live in order to win. Him getting killed in my stead, though valiant, wouldn't be helpful in this particular situation.

Another shot rang out and I felt my brother jump off of me, the sound of his gun firing towards the foliage to our left.

I could hear somebody running away as Gordon fired off three more shots.

Although my brother had eased off, he was still right behind me, not giving me much room for movement. At least my neck wasn't at that angle anymore.

"Stay."

Like I'm a dog. Great. And what was even more pathetic, was that I did it. I stayed, right in that position.

My brother crouched down at my right and brought up his gun. This time, he was aiming carefully. He was targeting whoever had been shooting at us from the trees. He stayed in that position for a good five seconds, which in this situation, was a long time. Then he shook his head and jumped back up.

"A3."

And we were running again. I really, really hated this game. At least this time we weren't being shot at. By the time we got into the heavy jungle, I was completely exhausted. I followed my brother to A3, a wooded trench about 30 feet into the rainforest. Upon arriving at the trench, I dropped down to the ground with heaving breaths.

The air was thick and wet in here. I could already feel the condensation beading up on my skin. The sounds of bugs, monkeys, and birds surrounded us and the blanket of leaves above us practically blacked out the sun. I had never fought in this area before. Hell, I rarely _visited_ this area of the island. Most of the time we kept the paintball game to the thinner edges of the jungle. There were no rules about that, but I think we all preferred to keep the fighting between us- without bringing the wild into it.

Gordon's theory had been that TinTin would want to pull the game into the rainforest as quickly as possible because she would have a _major_ advantage there. And indeed, she would have. We prepared briefly for that possibility, but as Gordon had said at the time, we'd never be able to use four hours to match TinTin's experience. My brother had wanted to take TinTin out quickly because he saw her as the biggest threat. He had said that our only hope was that Alan was too proud and TinTin too quiet for her to take the lead on their team. If she did, he had said, we were dead men. Luckily for us, it seemed Alan was an idiot.

I checked my armband again. Scott and father were the only two left. Well, besides us anyway. I wondered how long it would take them to hunt us down. Or should we be hunting them now? We were supposed to be stalking our enemies and then killing them, right? No hiding?

I turned to my left to question my brother. Hopefully he wouldn't be annoyed by my breaking my vow of silence. Upon seeing Gordon though, I stopped. He was sitting on one leg and hugging the other to his chest. His head was resting on his knee.

I flicked his arm and whispered, "Hey. You okay?"

He turned his head and looked at me tiredly. "I think I'm out of shape."

_He_ was out of shape? I hadn't heard him pant _once_ since we _started_ this little training exercise.

"My head's killing me."

Really? Damn. If this is what Gordon fought like when he had a bad headache, I'd hate to see him when he was at full strength. "You want to surrender?"

His head jerked up, offended. "What are you crazy?"

I shrugged. "If you don't feel well-"

"If they want me, they're gonna have to kill me."

Well okay then. I mean, don't get me wrong, I would have loved to win this thing for once, but it was just a game. Gordon's health was way more important. And truth be told, there's something to be said for dying early on. This whole constant running, being hunted, being shot at thing was really stressful. Normally by now I'd be on the beach drinking a Maitai with Brains... Wow, even my drinks weren't manly. Maybe I could take up drinking scotch. I did like the taste of a good scotch...or cognac.

"Ooo! I was such an idiot!"

Gordon's self-depricating remarks drew me from my thoughts.

"I had him. John, I'm sorry. If we get killed, it's totally my fault."

I raised my brows. "How's that?"

He sighed and shifted so that both legs were straight out in front of him. "I had Scott in my sights, but I clipped his shoulder on purpose instead of a kill shot to save him for the end." He shook his head. "I can't believe I did that. How freakin' stupid or embarrassingly conceited could I have been?" A fist pounded the dirt. "Fucking idiot!" He looked at me. "I'm so sorry, Johnny."

The thing was, I didn't even remotely care. "Whatever, Gords. So you missed him on purpose. As long as you don't do that in real-life, it's fine."

"No it's not. I had the shot, I should've taken him out. And the Brains thing. I shouldn't have stopped for that. I _knew_ it was a decoy. Scott and father probably approached Brains after Virgil's death."

"Well then they should've killed him, not recruited him. All these inter-team partnerships seem like cheating to me."

"There's no rules against teaming up with those who still live." My brother shrugged and then furrowed his brow. He tried to rub it, but couldn't get his hand under the shield.

"Look, Gords, if you really don't feel well, we should just call in. It's not a big deal. I mean, I've already made it..." I checked my watch, "...38 minutes. That's like a world record for me."

He faced me resolutely. "No. You wanted to win. I owe it to you." And with that, he stood up.

"You don't owe me anything." I stood up after him.

His eyes flicked over to me. "We're going hunting. Dad's high up. I had the shot before, but at my angle, if I took it, I'd have shot him out of the tree. I need a shot where I won't actually hurt him. Let's go."

Whimpering to myself, I repositioned my rifle, and moved along side my brother. He was squinting, massaging the back of his neck. Enough. I brought up my watch.

"What are you doing?"

With a sigh, I paused to answer him. "Telling Father that you're sick."

Gordon's hand shot out, covering my wrist. He narrowed his eyes at me. "I am not _sick_. I just have a headache. Don't make this a huge thing, John."

I very rarely ever used my 'big brother voice,' I'm very rarely the biggest brother- so to speak- but as was established earlier in the day, I couldn't physically compete with Gordon. "Let go of my arm." I annunciated each word carefully.

Low and behold, it worked. My brother's hand slid off my wrist and he looked down, playing with his fingers. Ignoring him, I resumed my actions. "Come in, Father."

Ha. Gordon was giving me that 'betrayal' look. Wow. Hadn't seen that since we were in our early teens.

"John?" I looked back down at my watch to see my father's confused face staring back at me. "John, I know I'm knew at this, but I'm pretty sure communication with enemy is restricted."

Says the man who previously worked with _all_ of his other 'enemies' to try to take us out.

"Maybe John's calling to negotiate a truce." I could hear Scott's opinion along with crunching leaves in the background. It made me realize that the dense overhang and monkey howls were a dead give-away to where we currently were...

"Father, Gordon doesn't feel well."

My brother's huff of annoyance coincided with the concern on my father's face. "What's wrong with him?"

My mouth opened and my brother pulled my wrist in front of his face. "Nothing's wrong with me. I have a headache because I'm exhausted. But I'm fine. I mean it. Honest, Father."

Seriously, he had his own wrist comm. What was with him and using other people's communications? I used the authoritative voice again. "Let go."

Once more it worked; he dropped my wrist. I really should use that more often... Giving him a look to let him know I was not happy, I brought the watch back to my face.

"John?"

I sighed. I knew what my father was asking me. Could Gordon continue? Yeah, I was pretty sure he could, but I had promised my dad that the next time I was on a mission and someone was sick, I'd let him know. Finally I answered. "I don't think we're ready to surrender, but I wanted you informed."

The face nodded. "Thank you. Let us know if anything changes."

I agreed. "FAB." Clicking the button, I signed off.

"You didn't have to say anything. I know why you did, but you're going overboard. You don't have to call in every little thing, John."

He wasn't looking at me. He was drawing patterns in the dirt with his shoe. I pointed at it. "You know they can track that."

He must have agreed because he quickly brushed out the lines and covered them with foliage. "I would've told you if I couldn't do it. I told you it was fine."

Nodding, I went to walk away, but then realized I had no idea where we were going to go. Damn. That meant I'd have to get into this... "Yeah, you did and I told dad we weren't ready to surrender because you said that. But I also made a promise that if I were ever in a situation where someone I was working with was having problems, I wouldn't keep it quiet."

He still didn't seem happy with me, but he let it drop. "Fine. We need to brush this off. We're still in combat and dissension in the ranks could destroy us." He looked at me. "Are we good?"

I nodded. "Gold."

"Great." My brother smiled- that same creepy smile...

"Uh oh. You going hunting again?"

Well, at the very least, he was bouncing again. "You see the big tree with the red leaves in back of dad while he was talking?"

There was a...? "Uh, no."

"I know where they are..." Ugh, he was practically singing. "Come on."

And again, we were off. At least we weren't running full speed this time...

TBTBTBTBTBTBTB

We moved silently and quickly through the shrubbery. I still had no idea where the 'tree with the red leaves' was, but my brother obviously knew where he was going. He was slinking with determination. Suddenly, he put up his fist and we stopped. He looked at me, pointed at his eyes with two fingers and then pointed them at a group of trees. From my angle, I couldn't even see which tree he was pointing at, much less anyone in the tree.

He mouthed to me as he brought up his rifle. "A3."

So after the shot we were going back to the jungle again, huh?

My brother took his time, twisting the scope and carefully positioning his aim. I watched as his finger eased onto the trigger. It occurred to me that I should be looking out for the other team member, but at a quick look around, I didn't see anyone.

_Boom_. The gun shot echoed, birds flew from the trees, and Gordon turned on his heels and ran. Startled by his speed, I quickly followed. As I ran through the leaves, I took a glance at my armband. Dad was out. Damn... Gordon was good. It was just Scott now.

Three minutes later, we were back, breathing hard in our trench. Gordon grinned over at me. "One away from the win. Everyone else's already lost."

It was true, with Father dead, Scott had already lost the game. Now the only thing he could do was try to keep us from winning and I had no doubt that he'd try his hardest. Especially after his over-confidence this morning.

"John," I looked over at my brother's whisper. "Lay where you are and keep your gun pointed towards the path. I'll hide you and then draw him here."

I went to question it and then stopped myself. What was there to question? Clearly Gords was an expert at this.

Following the directions, I laid on my belly and braced my gun with the stand. I cringed as Gordon covered me with vines and dirt. The amount of insects and microbes that were crawling all over me now... I would be showering for days without being clean. Hopefully there wasn't anything that could burrow into me...

After fifteen minutes of laying there, the insects were the least of my issues. How did Gordon even know that Scott would head this way? Was Gords playing bait? Where the hell were they? I was becoming paranoid too. I mean, it was Gordon. I could see him covering me with dirt and then filming it, knowing that I'd be a nervous wreck out here- being hunted. He'd get a good laugh out of this.

_Crunch._

Somebody was coming.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Scott came into view. His eyes were wide and he was turning back and forth as he walked, trying to cover both sides of the path with his gun. Birds and monkeys howled around him and it seemed as if every sound was making him jump.

I had never seen my brother look this way before- and I really felt bad for him. I had been in his shoes. Although, I'd never been in a position where I was last man standing and I was being hunted by two men. Huh- look at me, _hunting_ someone. Who knew you could hunt without actually moving?

Scott was still out of my shot though. My rifle was stationary at this point and if I moved it, Scott would hear it in a second. I had to wait until he walked- and stayed- in my trajectory.

Wiping his facemask with his sleeve, my older brother turned and faced the way he had just come from. He had no idea where we were.

To my right, a forest lizard scurried out of the bush and onto the path crunching the leaves. Scott jumped, flinging his rifle around to shoot down the creature. He stopped himself at the last minute as his brain finally processed what it was. The spiny reptile fled back into the underbush.

Laughing at himself, Scott leaned against a tree and tried to massage his head with his hand. I guessed he was getting a headache as well.

There was a rustle to my left and a knife flew out of the trees, embedding itself in the bark, two inches from Scott's neck.

My eyes went wide and Scott flew off the tree, first facing the knife and then spinning around towards the area the projectile came from.

What the hell was Gordon doing? I mean, dragging this out for Scott was bad enough, but throwing real knives? That was way over the line.

Clearly Scott thought so as well. "Gordon, what the hell?"

Silence answered him.

I wanted to give up my position, this felt wrong. Yes we were 'enemies,' but it was a _game_. Scott was my brother. I cared about him. Watching him suffer wasn't something I could just sit by and do. And it was especially ironic since I was watching Scott suffering at _Gordon's _hands.

By this time, my older brother had had it. He was revolving in a circle with his gun up. "Gordon!"

I was about to move- screw what Gordon thought about it- when Scott stopped, facing the tree with the knife. He moved forward and from my position I could see him squinting at the blade.

Behind him, Gordon seemed to peel himself from the moss that covering the base of a canopy tree. He had been right in front of me and I hadn't spotted him. I hadn't even seen him get into that spot. He moved in right behind Scott, bringing up his gun. I sighed, maybe Gords would just end this now.

Oblivious to what was occurring behind his back, Scott poked at the hilt of the knife. Then he closed his eyes, shook his head, and the tension drained from his shoulders.

"Thanks, Gords."

"Don't mention it."

Scott jumped and spun around coming face to face with the barrel of Gordon's gun. He stumbled back in surprise. My older brother's gun was not in the ready position. Gordon had him and he knew it.

Making a face, Scott lifted his hands in surrender. "Don't shoot me from three inches away."

With a crooked smile my younger brother gave a slight shake of his head. "It'd shatter the plexi-glass on the face shield and possibly blind you. It's not my plan to shoot you from three inches away."

As he spoke, Gordon moved, forcing Scott to retreat towards me. When Gords stopped, Scott's back was right in my line of sight.

"So what _is_ your plan then?"

Gordon shrugged. "Well, we need to kill you."

"Okay... so-"

I fired.

The shot echoed through the jungle and hit my brother square in the back. White paint splattered across his shirt and he flew forward- right into Gordon's arms.

My younger brother laughed as he caught him. Over Scott's head, he watched his armband. "Aaaand... you're dead."

I got up, brushing the leaves and dirt from my skin. I had been sweating so much, it was caked on me. Disgusting.

"Nice shot, John." Gordon said as he stood our older brother upright.

I smiled, but didn't reply. I didn't feel like I could really take credit for the kill when Gordon had lined Scott up for me.

Groaning, Scott rolled his shoulders and arched his back. "That's definitely going to leave a bruise."

"Better than getting shot point blank in the face."

My older brother raised his brow at Gordon's comment. Then he sighed. "I'm not going to argue there."

Walking over to me, Scott held out his hand. "Good game, John."

I shook it. "Thanks. You too."

He turned to Gords. "You are so lucky that knife didn't hit me."

My brother's face became serious. "I would never rely on _luck_ to land a knife two inches from your neck." He held Scott's gaze to drive in his sincerity.

Scott broke the eye-contact first. He nodded, looked down at his shoes, and then back up at Gordon. "Thank you."

Still grave, Gords shook his head. "As I said, don't mention it. And don't lean against the trees."

I had no idea what that was about. Removing the stand from my gun, I questioned them. "What was with the flying knife?"

Scott explained. "Poisonous frog."

Yanking the knife from the tree Gords added. "One that was poised to jump onto your neck."

Ooohh. Okay. So Gordon hadn't gone sadistic. He was saving Scott's life. Still... "Gordon, you could've answered him."

He looked offended as he thrusted the dagger in and out of the dirt. "And give up my position?"

Scott laughed. "Glad to see where your priorities lie."

With the toxin now cleaned from the knife, my brother repositioned his weapon. "That's right. I will give up my position to save your life, but not to make you feel better. Besides, I knew you'd figure it out." He stood up. "Deep down inside, I know you trust me. Even when I throw knives at you."

Scott pulled off his helmet and narrowed his eyes. "Yeah? Of all my brothers I can honestly say, I trust you least." Then he began to unload and secure his gun.

I smiled, knowing he was referring to Gordon's pranks. Gords got it too. He grinned and clutched his chest in mock-offense. "Scott! How could you say such a thing? I would never do something underhanded!"

We all laughed and I removed my own helmet, unloaded my gun, and strapped it to my back. My hair was matted down with the sweat. I tried to shake my hand through it to smooth it out.

Next to me, and now also out of his combat gear, Gordon sighed and patted me on the shoulder in fake sympathy. "Ah, I remember when my hair used to stick to my head like that. That really sucked..."

I paused in my ministrations to smile at him. "So Gords, you lose _all_ your hair?" I glanced at his crotch and back up.

He raised an eyebrow. "Why? You like 'em smooth, John? I can whip it out if you'd like to admire."

Damn him! I gagged. Bad enough with the shaved scrotums, but then add to it that he was my brother. Blech!

"Oookay." Shaking his head at us, Scott motioned down the path. "If you two children are finished, I'd like to get the hell out of this jungle."

Gords grinned at me. "The Prince has announced that he would like to leave."

I laughed. Then I stuck out my hand. "Congratulations on your victory, by the way, Gordon."

He shook my hand. "Likewise, John. And well played in rearranging the teams. You'd make an excellent leader."

Huh? "In what way?"

My brother answered as we began our walk back to the where the 'deceased' would be waiting. "You analyzed your own weaknesses and then picked a teammate that could fill in the gaps. It's a good leadership skill."

Scott agreed. "It is. Gords is right, you wanted to win, you reorganized the teams, and you won. Excellent strategy."

I hadn't even thought of it that way. "I don't know about analyzing my weaknesses... Every part of this was a weakness for me."

"Right, so you picked me to compensate."

I blinked. Scott gave me a sideways glance. "Modest, isn't he?"

I shook my head and looked at my older brother seriously. "He doesn't need to be."

Meeting my eyes, Scott nodded. "I know." He looked over at Gordon and then back at me. "I know how good he is."

I stopped walking. "Do you really? Scott... he's..."

He nodded. "I know, John. When I was in the Air Force I got wind of some of his... _less publicized_ accomplishments. Believe me, I know _exactly_ how good he is."

My younger brother appeared disconcerted. "You knew what I..." His eyes flicked to me and then back to Scott. "...did?"

With a sigh, Scott stretched his hand onto the nearest tree, leaning on it. "Not all of it. Not the highly classified stuff, but I read enough. I know you can't discuss it. There's stuff I'm not at liberty to discuss either. But yeah, if we're ever in a situation where we're trying to escape or eliminate a group of armed individuals, I have no delusions as to which one of us should be in charge of taking out the enemy."

Well I'll be damned... Gordon almost looked bashful. _That_ was certainly not an expression I was used to seeing on his face.

A sudden movement near Scott's arm drew my attention and before I could blink, a snake sprung out and clamped down on his throat. Gordon was almost as fast as the viper pulling it off of Scott and snapping the animal's neck. Scott doubled over, grabbing at his adam's apple, and I pulled him away from the tree. Together, Gordon and I sat him on the ground.

While Gordon surveyed the nearby foliage for what I presumed to be more reptiles, I crouched in front of Scott. "Scott, let me see it."

He was shaken...and pale, his breaths raking in in heaving gasps. But then, I'd probably look similar if I had a venomous snake try to strangle me with it's mouth.

Shaking with adrenaline, Scott lowered his hand from the wound. Two red holes appeared to the left of his trachea. A trail of blood made a line down the rest of his neck, staining his shirt. The blood didn't appear to be thinner than normal, which was a good sign. "Scott, can you tell me how the pain is?"

His sweaty face stared at me like I was absurd. "It hurts."

Yeah, no kidding. "I mean is it a sharp pain, dull pain, or a burning pain?"

His brow furrowed as he thought. "It doesn't burn. Dull maybe?" Normally Scott's mind was so quick you didn't have to even finish the question. His pause and the trembling of his skin... I was worried. I looked up at Gords. "Call it in."

Gordon appeared just as pale as Scott. "It was a viper?"

I nodded. "Blue temple viper."

At Gordon's sharp intake of breath, I flashed my eyes. Scott was unnerved enough; he didn't need to see the terror in Gord's eyes.

My younger brother got the message and pushed back the emotion. He pulled his wrist to face. "Father?"

I turned back to Scott as the watch crackled behind me. "Congratulations, Gordon. And tell John as well. He must be-"

"Father, Scott was just bit by a blue temple viper. Do we have the antivenom on the island?"

Brains voice was faint, but came through. "Uh, for a, uh, blue temple viper, no. I, uh, believe Bali has a stock..."

My father began handing out orders. "Alright, Alan, suit up and fly One. I don't want to waste time..."

Looking to the sky, I shook my head. Could nobody stay calm? I realized that this particular species of snake had one of the most lethal venoms in the world, but it was unlikely that a bite from this kind of viper would involve envenoming.

"...You boys have a bite kit with you? Get the pressure bandage on it asap."

Annoyed now, I brought up my own watch. "Father, I have a venom test with me. We'll test the wounds and let you know in five minutes if you need to send Alan out. And the pressure bandage is out, he was bit on the neck. I doubt choking him will be helpful." I cut off the comm. and opened one of the cargo pockets in my shorts.

"You carry a venom kit with you?"

I looked back up at Gordon. "You don't? This is a jungle, Gords." I began preparing the swabs as I continued our dialogue. "You should be prepared."

"Cute, John."

I smiled and dipped the cotton into the packaged liquid. Then, I placed the saturated swab against my brother's neck. I was gentle, but he winced. "Now, _that _burns."

He had stopped shaking and color was beginning to return to his cheeks. All good signs. My guess was that the adrenaline spike was what affected him before. "It's a good sign if it's not burning- and your blood doesn't seem thinner."

Scott sat still as we waited the five minutes. The way the test kit worked, the liquid on the swab would have a chemical reaction to any venom. If there was a biological toxin in the bite, the cotton would turn green. If it stayed white, or red where his blood soaked into it, then we were fine.

As the minutes passed, I could feel my brother's pulse and breathing return to a normal rate. "Your pulse rate's good now, Scott."

"Yeah." He let out a breath. "I think it was startling more than anything." Looking up at Gordon he added. "Thanks for getting it off. You had it's neck cracked before my brain even registered what happened. That's two I owe you."

"You live through this with no issues and we're even."

I knew how Gords felt. I was thinking this probably wasn't doing much towards growing his hair back.

Scott grimaced. "How much longer?"

He seemed uncomfortable- my heart rate jumped just a little. "Why? Any new pain?"

He shook his head. "No, it's just, this position's killing me."

I blew out a breath. Damn him for scaring me like that. "Better the position than the bite, bro. You've got 30 seconds. Man up."

A chuckle was cut short behind me and Scott's brows rose in challenge. "Man up? From the guy who drinks frilly drinks and has a closet bigger than most people's bedrooms."

Fifteen seconds left. "_Your_ closet's the same size and if _that_ guy's telling you to, 'man up'..."

At my back there was an, "Oooo, he got you."

My older brother's eyes drifted upwards. "What are you, twelve?"

"Yes, yes, I'm twelve."

Shaking my head, I ignored the banter, and began to peel back the swab. The bleeding had pretty much stopped and some of the fibers were stuck to Scott's bloodied skin. I searched out the cotton as I removed it. So far, no green.

Finally, I had it off. "Gords, toss me a light."

There was some daylight filtering through the trees, but not enough that I wanted to risk my brother's life using it to see colors. I caught the flashlight with one hand and carefully examined the cotton. The only thing I saw was red.

With a great sigh of relief, I shared the good news. "No green. You're clear."

Scott flopped on his back with a huge exhale. "Oh thank God."

"You're sure, John?"

I looked up at my apprehensive sibling. "Yep. See for yourself."

I handed him the cotton and the flashlight and watched as he inspected it.

"And you're sure you did the test right..."

My eyes rolled. "It's not a complicated procedure, Gords."

"He did it right." Scott was smiling.

I did do it right. Plus, if the wound had stopped bleeding, there was no way it had been envenomed.

With a grin on his face, Gordon crouched down and handed me back the swab. Then he yanked Scott up into a seated position and straight into a hug. "You scared the crap out of me!" He pulled back, now looking angry. "DON'T LEAN ON THE TREES!"

I bit my lip to keep from laughing as my older brother cringed at the volume. Before he could respond though, he was flung back into the hug. "I'm so glad you're okay. I love you, Scott."

Scott chuckled and patted him on the back. "Love you too, Gords."

My younger brother pushed Scott back again. "You're really ok?"

Now Scott was trying to keep from all out laughing. He nodded.

"No nausea?"

Scott shook his head.

"Dizzyness?"

Head shake.

"Trouble breathing?"

Head shake.

"Blurry vision?"

Head shake.

"Any other symptoms I should remember but don't?"

Scott laughed. "I'm good. John's right, if it's not burning, there's probably no venom."

I added. "Plus, blue temple vipers usually don't envenom _and_ it's stopped bleeding _and_ there was no green. He's okay."

Gordon pulled Scott forward, hugging him again. My older brother screwed up his face. "I'm okay until I die of whiplash..."

Letting go, Gordon stood up, scowling. "You don't _die_ from whiplash. It's just painful."

Scott rolled his eyes laughing. "Oh, okay then." He accepted my hand and Gordon's to help him up. Then he brought up his wrist. "Father?"

The watched beeped, but the other end was silent- no doubt waiting for the verdict. "I'm okay. No venom."

I could hear the sigh of relief through the comm link. "Thank God."

Scott grinned. "That's what I said. We're on our way back."

"FAB. See if you can catch Virgil on your way."

What? Scott's expression of confusion must have matched my own. "What do you mean?"

"When he heard you were bit, he took off into the jungle with the GPS tracker."

I tried to stop my smile as I heard Gordon next to me saying, "Awww. See Scott? He still loves you."

A laugh came through the watch and even Scott- who was turning red- had to suppress a grin. Finally, he cleared his throat and regained composure. "We'll grab him on the way back, Father."

"Good."

Bringing his watch down, Scott looked forward and stopped. "Speak of the devil."

"You better not let him hear you call him that."

I was inclined to agree with Gordon. I turned around to see Virgil, beat red and out of breath, running towards us.

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_You don't have to wait at all for the next chapter! Just click the button! Um, but I would still love to know what you thought about this one... If you get a chance..._


	14. Epilogue part III

_If you do not know the Tigger Song, after reading this chapter, please watch MonkeyFCoconut's youtube video of it. It will give you a GREAT mental image for the story!_

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_**Chapter 14: Epilogue part III-**_  
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Scott held out his hands in a calming gesture. "I'm fine."

It was amazing- we knew each other so well we didn't even have to use words. Virgil's worried eyes met mine and I held out the cotton swab for him to see. Gords tossed him the light. He panted as he inspected the swab. After scrutinizing it for at least a minute, he returned the items. Then he examined Scott.

Knowing Virg as he does, Scott just stood there, and allowed him to feel around the wound, studying it for any traces of a toxin. After a full minute had passed, Scott finally intervened. He put his hands on Virg's arms, gently pushing them away from his neck. "Virg," They looked at each other. "I'm okay."

They stared at each other for a few seconds and then, Virgil embraced Scott in a full hug. I watched both squint their eyes closed in relief, although for different reasons. I smiled. The issues between them were over- forgotten.

Next to me, Gordon tipped his head to the right saying, "Awwww..."

Without looking, I threw out my hand and pushed him over. With an "oofff," he fell to the ground.

Seeing Gords hit the floor had my older brothers chuckling. They pulled apart, though not entirely, and looked down at him.

From his place in the dirt, a glare was sent my way. I snickered.

Nodding, my brother picked himself up. "That's nice. I spend the past hour keeping you alive and what do I get in return? Shoved to the floor."

I gestured to our brothers. "Let them have their moment-"

"I was just vocalizing my support for their making up." He said as he brushed dead leaves from his shirt.

Virgil finally separated fully from Scott, but I didn't miss the squeeze he gave Scott's shoulder before they parted.

With his eyes narrowing, my temperamental brother stepped forward. "Okay." He pointed at us. "Which one of you decided to take me out in the first ten minutes?"

Scott sighed. "You need to ask that question?"

Virgil's eyes locked on Gordon, who smirked in return. "Could be worse, Virg... you could be Alan."

The annoyance left his eyes and Virgil laughed. "You guys are so dead. Alan is _pissed_."

Gordon shrugged. "He should've been better. He had a partner with specialized skills, which were not utilized, he knows my style unbelievably well, and didn't use that... he needs to up his game. If this were real life, he _would_ have been dead in the first 10 minutes. That's why we have these practices to learn how to survive."

I nodded. "Yes, and I think Alan and you too Virg, should adopt my new-found method of survival."

Scott raised a brow. "What's that? Staying by Gordon?"

Yep. That was _exactly _what it was. I nodded. "You think I'm kidding? I'm not. If we're ever being hunted in a jungle, I want to be right next to him."

Gordon turned to me. "And John, if we're ever... _doing anything_ in space," I waited... "I want you to knock me out."

I laughed. "I'll take that under advisement."

Virgil shook his head at us and then held out his hand. "Congratulations on your victory, John."

I couldn't help the smile on my face. I had won! Yeah! Ha! No losing in the first 3 minutes for me. I won! Woohoo!

Maintaining a dignified facade, I calmly shook his hand. "Thanks, Virg. And good game."

He snorted. "Yeah not really." Then he shook Gordon's hand. "Congratulations."

Gords grinned back. "Thanks!"

Chuckling to himself, Virgil walked back to Scott. Well that was suspicious.

Gords caught it as well. "What?"

He was barely containing his laughter as explained. "Alan is _so_ mad. You have no idea. TinTin outlived him."

I tried to smother my own laugh as Scott snorted. Gordon shrugged. "She played the game better. He'll have to deal."

I added. "I'm telling you guys, go with my plan."

Suddenly serious, Gordon pointed at me. "Actually, John... You know, we _should_ go with your plan."

I had told Scott that Gords didn't need to be modest- and he didn't- but the brazen cockiness was a bit off-putting.

Seeming to read my mind, he shook his head. "No. I don't mean stay with me..." He turned to Scott. "This set up- two on two on two on two- when are we ever going to see that? Really? It's far more likely to be a group versus five of us or at least three of us. Or even _one_ versus five of us."

"The Hood." Scott questioned.

Gordon nodded.

Virgil disagreed with Gord's planning. "Yeah, but one versus everybody? Come on. Whoever that is would be outnumbered seven to one. There's no way they'd win."

After today, I wasn't too sure about that. "If the one is Gordon, I wouldn't be positive of that."

Scott threw in his two cents. "For training purposes, Gordon should be on the team with everyone else because in real-life, he and I would be organizing the strategy. We should practice _that_."

"So, what? You want all five of us versus dad, TinTin, and Brains?" Virg asked.

I answered. "No, TinTin should be with us too because she would be in the field."

Virg scoffed. "Dad and Brains wouldn't stand a chance of winning-"

"You guys don't get it!" Gordon was yelling- and he looked upset. "It's not about _winning_. Yeah, of course if there's five of_ us_ and one of _them_ we're more likely to win. We've got higher numbers. But that just means we'd have someone _left_ in the end. That's crap! If we're up against the Hood, and it's the five of us, and we manage to take him out, but he takes one of us out first... yeah, okay, we win. But I'm sorry- that would be one of the worst days of my life. I won't give a _fuck_ about the fact that we killed the Hood. The _only_ thing I'll be thinking about is the fact that one of us didn't come home. That our family will never be the same." He paused, composing himself.

We waited, knowing he needed the time. After a few seconds, he continued, calmer now. "Today, John and I won. And John did a great job- he took out TinTin and Scott. But," He looked at me. "Don't take this as an offense, John, but I need to be honest..."

I could feel my face turning red. There were so many things he could say here and whatever he was about to say, it wasn't going to be good.

He looked back at Virg and Scott. "I spent so much energy focusing on keeping John alive. I knew how bad he was at this and I used this for myself as a challenge. Can I defeat everyone and keep John safe? But it was _hard_. It was. I had to listen for where everyone was, watch where he was, plan out where to run to, I had to tell _him_ where to run to, I had to plan my shots to make sure John would be covered when we ran. I had to check out where he stood, who was nearby, could they get a shot off?" He looked at me again. "I don't mean to make you sound incompetent; you have some skills, you're a decent shot, but like I told you, I didn't treat this as a game- my mistakes excluded. I made believe this was real life and if it was, I couldn't risk you getting hit."

He turned back to my brothers. "To a certain extent, I do the same with Alan and I'd probably do it to a similar _degree_ except that Alan and I have been paired together for so long, I know by now what I need to look out for. Look, my point is, this was harder because I'm not ever paired with John. Normally, I watch out for Alan; if this was real life, I'd be with everyone. Virg, you got killed within 10 minutes. That means, I'd be hunting the enemy _and_ positioning and covering the three of you at the same time. And if I'm going to lead, or help Scott lead, or whatever, nobody's dying on my watch. We need to practice. All five of us, and possibly TinTin, versus whoever, whatever, I don't care. But in the end _all_ _five of us_ have to be alive because any other option is a complete failure as far as I'm concerned."

We were all silent in the wake of Gordon's speech. He was right, of course, and as embarrassing as it was to know that he didn't hold much confidence in my ability to survive on my own, I could acknowledge the fact that without Gordon, I would've been dead in three minutes. And...I did take some solace in that he also felt a need to protect Virgil and Alan as well.

"You're right, Gordon." Scott's words drew my attention. "We need to talk to Father about reworking the teams...again. But I also think, we should practice not only _with_ you, but _against_ you as well. If you're the best at this, which I don't think anyone would argue, and we can beat you _without_ you..."

Gordon nodded. "...then when we're together, we can beat anyone up to my level."

A thought occurred to me. "What about the Hood's mind control? We should throw that into our sessions too."

My comment did not seem to make anyone very happy.

Scott heaved a heavy sigh. "Let's just try to have everyone live through a five-on-one game first. Then we can worry about mind control."

Snapping his fingers Virgil added. "For the mind control, we can have a pre-arranged victim. No one will know who, but the selected bad guy will tell one of the good guys the night before, 'on this signal, switch teams'. Then, we need to eliminate _that_ threat without hurting that person."

That was an excellent idea. "You're a genius, Virg."

"Ow." I looked over at Gordon who was massaging his head.

Scott walked over to him. "Still have the headache?"

Gords nodded. "Yeah. And I'm with _you_. Let's just try to survive without the mind control and see how that goes. I don't even want to think about one of the team turning on us in the middle of a fight."

My oldest brother squeezed Gordon's shoulder. "Let's start making our way back. We'll talk more about this at the house."

Virgil smiled at him. "With everyone there?"

With a knowing grin, Scott agreed. "You know how I like a good team discussion."

Rolling his eyes, Virg laughed. "Yeah, I do..." Then he made his way over to Scott, throwing an arm over his shoulders. "I'm really glad you're okay, Scott."

"Yeah?" My oldest brother questioned. "Me too."

And with that, we began our trek back to the beach, where the rest of the paintball participants would be waiting. As we walked back, I had this pit in my stomach. Yeah, Scott was fine and yeah, I was never exceptionally worried about the bite, but it still was a close call. I knew you had to take these moments to tell people how you felt while they were still around. Especially in our job. Like Gordon had said, there could- and probably would- be a time when one of us didn't return home.

Both of my brothers had told Scott how they felt. Hell, Gordon flat out said he loved him. Virg didn't use those words, but the hug, the looks, the, 'I'm really glad you're okay'- the message was clear. What had I done? What had I said? 'Man up' and 'You're clear,' that's what I had said. And as I watched Scott and Virg walking in front of me, I couldn't help but think I'd missed an opportunity.

_This_ was why Gordon thought I was a cold person. Scott almost died and I didn't say _anything_ to him. Why couldn't I hug him? Why couldn't I just say, 'Scott, I love you. I'm glad you're okay.' Another snake could jump out at any minute; we could get a call and he could die today. I should take the opportunity while I had it.

Just tell him.

I watched his back as he walked. The green uniform with my white paint splattered across it. Okay, just say the words. Say them. 'Scott, I love you.' Okay, good, but now aloud this time.

The feeling of adrenaline rocked in my stomach and I took a deep breath. This was it. I opened my mouth...

And I shut it. I would be mocked forever. But still, he could die. What if I didn't get another chance? The mocking would be worth it.

Just do it, John. Just say the words. Say it!

Damn it!

"Hey," Gordon nudged me. "You mad about what I said? You look upset. I didn't mean it condescendingly. You know I totally admire you, John, just not in combat skills. But like you said, everybody's an expert in something and everybody's got stuff they're not good at. Hey, at least you can _do_ the combat. I can't even run the _training_ mission in space."

I sighed. "I'm not upset about what you said. You were correct and you were talking about surviving a life or death situation, sparing my feelings shouldn't be a concern. It's all for the greater good."

He raised a brow. "Oookay. I don't know _what _that means. Does that mean I _did_ hurt your feelings or I didn't?"

"It means it doesn't matter."

"Of course it does. I don't want you to feel hu-"

"I'm not mad about what you said, Gords. I wasn't even thinking about that."

"Oh." He stopped talking and I focused on calming thoughts in the silence. "But you looked upset..."

Well, _now_ I was getting upset with him. Seriously, I said I wasn't mad. _And_ he was playing a snap, snap, fist clap tune with his hands as he walked. Could he not be quiet for two minutes? It was probably all that built up energy that he was unable expel when he was stalking our enemies in complete silence.

"_Were_ you upset? You still look upset. _Are _you upset?"

Grr! What about my lack of eye contact and response indicated that I wanted to talk about this? Although... I _could_ talk to him about it. He knew I wasn't happy _and_ I knew he still felt indebted to me. He probably wouldn't mock me about it. And Virg, well, Virg knew I was worried that people didn't know me. So _he_ probably wouldn't mock me. Plus, teasing people really wasn't his thing.

Okay, so, Gordon's walking next to you; he wants to help; just tell him. Say, 'Gords, I'm upset because I never got to tell Scott that I was...' What? Happy he was alive? Too blasé. I'm happy a lot of people are alive. I'm relieved that he wasn't going to die? Still not strong enough. That I love him. Okay, aaand we're over the top. I do love him, but I can't say it. Have I ever said it?

Seriously, have I _ever_ said it to anyone in my family? I mean, I know I'm a guy and I'm not thinking I should be saying all the time or anything, but when something bad happens- like Scott almost dying- I should be able to let that person know that I care.

I couldn't remember a time that I _ever_ said it.

Okay, now I was freaked out. Would I at least say it in _response_ to someone else saying it? This was making me start to panic.

"Gordon."

He added a hop to his step. "What?"

"Tell me you love me."

He stopped short. I hadn't really thought out the wording on that, had I? The look on his face was absolutely hilarious, except that I was serious... and he knew it, which only seemed to add to the look of stupefaction on his face. My older brothers were still walking. Thank God they hadn't heard that.

"Huh?"

I crossed my arms, still determined to get to my goal of expressing my feelings to _someone._ "Just say it."

He looked frightened, but complied. "I love you?"

I turned away from him. "I love you too." Relief flowed through me and I resumed walking, leaving my confused brother in my wake.

Okay. So I could say it in response to someone else saying it- without eye contact. But still, that didn't help me with the whole Scott thing. Especially since I couldn't ever remember Scott initiating an, 'I love you' either. Gordon, well, if you included all the physicality, he practically said it daily. To a degree, I envied him. Nobody ever teased him about it. And me... I pushed him off. All the time. Did I ever even say it back to him before now? I couldn't remember.

He had caught up to me again and was eying me cautiously, like I was a mental patient. I stopped and spoke to him again. "I've said that to you before, right?"

I saw his breathing pick up... and now I was _actually _scaring him. Not just weirding him out. I had to explain myself- embarrassing though it may be. "Scott almost died and I didn't say it to him and I wanted to but then I couldn't say it. So then I was wondering if I could say it in response to someone else saying it. And then I wasn't sure if I'd ever said it period." He seemed frozen and I pointed my finger at him. "Don't make fun of me."

"I love you too, John."

Scott was still walking, but his voice didn't seem to have any trouble traveling behind him.

I went still, my entire face turning red. Across from me, Gordon was sucking in his lips to keep his laughter below the surface. I covered my face with my hands. I was mortified. I needed to hide. I unhooked my helmet from my belt, threw it onto my head, and resumed walking with my head down in shame.

Gordon cracked up laughing and quickly caught up. I didn't look, but in front of me I heard another chuckle followed by Virgil speaking softly. "He put his helmet over his head."

And now Scott was laughing. Fantastic. Well, at least I told him... had I? No, seriously now, had I _actually _said it? Nope. Okay, goal _not_ accomplished. Complete the mission now, get it out of the way, and further humiliate myself? Or just accept that I couldn't say it, but Scott knows how I feel? Right. The latter. I would work on it.

Next to me, Gords cleared his throat. "You know, we're on our victory walk... We should be singing loudly."

I appreciated the change of subject. And yeah, that was tradition. Gords and Alan always sang 'We are the Champions' by Queen. You could hear them coming from about a mile away. Scott and Virgil preferred to come up with a new song for each win, but they were equally as loud. Truth be told though, I wasn't really in the mood to sing. I had already humiliated myself enough. Besides, it was obnoxious- and not at all classy.

"Come on, John. What should we sing?"

I shook my head. "We already had our victory song."

"Uh, when was that exactly?"

"On the beach." I never realized that my voice echoed with this helmet on.

"That wasn't a victory song. That was a 'cheer Gordon up' song."

I smiled despite myself. He was right. It was. I kept my head down as he went on.

"Come on." He hopped in front of me and began walking backwards. With my head down, I couldn't see above his chest and he couldn't see my face.

He snapped. "I got it! _You_ need a cheering up song!"

Oh this should be good...

"Maybe we could sing a cheer up/victory combo song..."

I was _not _responding to this.

"Umm... Ooo! I know: 'A Space Oddity'!"

A Space Oddity? Really? I believed Major Tom _died_ in that little tale. Actually, thinking about it, I _believe_ it was implied that he went floating off into space. Ironic that Gordon chose _that one._ I looked up just long enough to shoot him a look of disbelief.

Apparently he took that as an invitation. "Ground control to Major Tom... Ground control to Major Tom..." He included great drama in his voice and hand movements as he serenaded me.

"Take your protein pills and put your helmet on..." He slapped the top of my helmet.

"Ground control to Major Tom... Ground control to Major Tom..."

My face began to crack. The way he was overexaggerating the end of each phrase... it was getting to me. I could feel the damn smile breaking through.

"Commencing countdown, engines-" He bent his head down in front of my face shield with an overly earnest expression. "...on."

That did it. The laugh escaped me. He got out of my face and I brought my head up to see him looking very proud of himself. Bastard. "You know how that song ends, right?"

He shrugged. "Not sure I ever made it to the end. It's kind of a slow one."

Naturally. I briefly questioned if I should mention it, but it _had _been a few weeks now. Gordon was doing better. "The spaceship goes dead and he ends up floating off into space."

My brother stopped short and went pale. I shouldn't have told him. But then, with a disconcerted look, he added, "Well that's ironic, isn't it?"

I chuckled. "Yeah. I'd say so. Good song choice there, Gords."

He made a face. "I don't like that song anymore."

I rolled my eyes at him and rubbed his head. "Well thanks for-"

I stopped. Hang on. What was this? His head wasn't smooth. No, it felt kind of like a two o'clock shadow...

He was staring at me as though I was crazy again. Well, I _was_ feeling his head... I smiled. "Hey Scott!"

They were about twenty feet ahead of us now, but both my brothers stopped and turned. Scott nodded at me and yelled, "You still have the helmet on?"

With a huff, I kept one hand on my brother's head and took my helmet off with the other. "Come here!"

"Why?"

Why was Virgil questioning me? "Just come here!"

They jogged over. Gords seemed a bit nervous. I just smirked at him. It's not often that I can get him in this sort of position- where I'm in the know and he's not. Finally, they arrived. "What, John?"

I grabbed Scott's hand and plopped it on Gordon's head. "Rub it."

One eyebrow went up in response.

I rolled my eyes. "Just do it."

He did. Understanding dawned immediately and Scott smiled at me.

Gordon flicked his eyes back and forth between us. "What?"

Ignoring him, Scott turned to Virg. "Virg?"

Curious, my other brother also put a hand on Gordon's head. He felt around and a genuine grin adorned his face. Then, he dropped the hand and squinting, he moved in towards Gordon's nose.

Uncomfortable with how close Virgil was getting, my younger brother tried to back up. However, with two hands on his head, he wasn't going anywhere. "What? What is it?"

Virgil straightened. "Guys, I believe our little brother's growing up. If you look real close, I think he's getting a mustache."

Gordon's eyes went wide. "Do _not_ tease me."

Scott and I both removed our hands from his head and smiled at him.

Clearly unsure if we were messing with him, Gordon just stood for a moment, trying to read us. We remained quiet with our knowing smiles. Unable to determine our sincerity, my younger brother slowly brought his hand up and felt the top of his own head. The look of suspicion faded almost immediately, replaced by one of hope. Then, as he felt around more, his eyes lifted to all three of us, looking for reassurance that this was real.

I answered his eyes. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Gordon."

Scott nodded and put an arm around Gords' shoulders. "I am too. Although, I'm a little insulted that my being bitten wasn't all that traumatic for you."

With a smile, my younger brother pushed Scott off and shook his head, pointing at him. "Don't even joke about that."

Virgil tapped Gordon's cheek and tsked. "You're gonna need to do something about all that stubble."

The grin was slowly extending across my brother's face. "Do something about the stubble? Virg, I'm not shaving for at least a month. I'm reveling in this. I'm growing a full-on beard."

Well that was something I'd never seen. Actually, other than Scott, I'd never seen any of my brothers with full facial hair. Not shaving for a few days, sure, but a full beard... Hopefully Gords would look better than I did when I grew a gotee for Ashlynn Roberts. I looked ridiculous, but she was worth it. She could do amazing things with her-

"A beard? That should be interesting." Scott's comments shook me from my thoughts. I _really_ needed to go see Eliska.

Virg scoffed. "Bet it slows his swim times down by five seconds a lap."

"I don't care." You could almost see the joy building up in my brother's core. His whole body began to vibrate with excitement. He beamed at us. "I have hair!"

I couldn't help but grin back. I noticed my brothers doing the same.

Gordon began jumping up and down, pumping his fists into the air, screaming at the top of his lungs. "I HAVE HAIR! I HAVE HAIR! Who has hair?" He paused in the bouncing to answer himself. "Oh, that's right. I do!" Then he started moon walking across the wooded path. He sang, "I have hair. Uh huh. I have hair. That's right."

I looked on with amusement.

"I'm gonna have eyebrows again! I'm gonna have eyelashes! No more looking like a freak!" He stopped again to question us. "This is real, right?"

We all nodded as Virgil answered. "Yeah it is. Big day for you, shot down your family, and grew some hair."

"Woohoo!" And the bouncing resumed. "I got hair! I got hair!"

Scott leaned over to Virgil. "Who does he remind me of?"

Crossing his arms, Virg replied. "Tigger."

Scott nodded in accord. "Ohh. Yep, that's right."

A thought popped into my head. I shouted out and interrupted the 'I got hair' mantra. "Hey Gordon! Cheer me up. Sing the Tigger song while you're bouncing!"

He stopped and looked at me. But I _knew_ from his expression that he was way too happy not to do what I asked. Sure enough, the hopping resumed along with a serenade, "OH! The wonderful thing about tiggers are tiggers are wonderful things! Their tops are made out of rubber, their bottoms are made out of springs. Their bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, but the most wonderful thing about Tiggers is I'm the only one!"

I was cracking up! He was literally springing in time with the song.

Scott was trying very hard not join me. "You know, he really is a twelve year old."

I agreed. "Yep. A twelve year old with the knowledge of an assassin."

Virgil shook his head and resumed walking. "I think you two are giving him _way_ too much credit. That song's from Winnie the Pooh. He's a four year old."

Scott furrowed his brow and nodded. "You're right, I stand corrected."

"Tiggers are cuddly fellows, tiggers are awfully sweet, everyone el-us is jealous, that's why I repeat and repeat! OH..."

TBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Five minutes later, the beach was in view. Scott, Virgil, and I were still walking on the path with Gordon literally twirling and hopping around us- still singing the song.

"John..." I peered at Scott. "I just might have to kill you."

I smirked. "Good luck. I'm under Gordon's protection."

"Uh, your protector is currently swinging from a tree branch."

I looked up and to the right. Virgil was correct. There Gordon was, hanging on a low branch and moving back and forth. At least he'd stopped singing...

At full swing, he let go and landed on his feet in a mixture of sand and dirt. He smiled at me. "John! What's our song?"

Virgil cut me off before I could answer. "Oh no. No more singing for you. And no more bouncing either."

"But I've got hair!" Arms wide to the sky, he went running for the beach. Giving each other a look and an eye roll, we trotted off after him. We arrived just in time for Gordon to announce his discovery to the casualties. "I got hair!"

My father, Brains, and TinTin smiled. Alan, sent him a death glare from his seat on the bench.

"That's wonderful news, Gordon. Let me see and how's the headache?"

"What- oh right. No more headache. I have hair!" Gordon jumped over to my father as we finally caught up to the group. As my dad inspected my brother's head, Alan went over to Scott. "You really okay?"

Smirking, Scott shook his head. "You're not flying One."

Al's eyes narrowed. "I am genuinely concerned."

My brother hit his shoulder. "I'm fine. It was a venom-free bite."

"Scott. I want to look at you." Finished with Gordon, my father called Scott over to where he was standing with Brains and TinTin.

Panting and sweaty from his excitement-based workout, Gordon came over to myself, Virgil, and Alan- still beaming. "Hey Al. Wanna feel the hair?"

Alan crossed his arms and stared Gords down. "No. Not really."

"It feels priiiicklyyyy..."

Arms still folded, Alan worked his jaw.

Gordon's hand shot out and grabbed Al's wrist. "Feel it."

"No!" My youngest brother tried to keep his arms to his chest as he turned away.

With his hand clamped down, Gordon followed. "Feel it!"

"No! Let..." They were twirling in a circle now with Gordon practically on top of Alan's back, "...go of me."

"Feel my hair!"

"No! I don't give a damn about your stupid hair."

Immediately, Gords let go and stood back looking hurt. I couldn't tell if it was real or not. This was one of the few times I wished I was Virgil. Okay, no. Maybe I'd just wish to have Virgil's _ability_ to readpeople- I couldn't handle having Virg's PMS.

My younger brothers stared off. Alan glaring and Gordon pouting. It was Al who broke first. Rolling his eyes, he reached up and rubbed Gord's head. "Congratulations on your stubble."

An eyebrow went up and Gord crossed his arms. "You don't _sound_ very enthusiastic for me."

Alan match the position almost exactly. "Well, you'll have to excuse me. I was shot down today by my former partner... within the first ten minutes- the first one out."

Gordon nodded. "Well, as I've heard it, all's fair in love and war. And to be honest..." Gordon pointed at Alan, up and down, "...this whole sore-loser thing really does not become you."

The eyes narrowed to slits.

A crooked grin appeared on Gord's face. "Come on, Al. Be happy for my hair."

Now _that_ expression was honest. Gordon meant it this time- he really wanted Alan to be happy for him.

Giving up the evil eye, my youngest brother rolled his eyes and allowed a small smile to grace his lips. He sighed. "A full beard, huh?"

So I guessed Gordon had already discussed his grooming plans with Alan then...

The full-tooth grin was back as Gordon nodded excitedly.

With a slight chuckle, Alan's body relaxed. "You're gonna look so weird." He turned to me. "Congratulations on the win, John."

"Thanks."

Then Alan pointed at me. "But just so you know, I'm calling dibs on Gordon for next time."

"Dibs? What am I? The front seat of a car?"

"That's shotgun." Alan whispered to him.

"Oh right."

"Uh, I hate to break up the cat fight you two have going on over Gordon here-"

I looked offended at Virgil. "I didn't say anything!"

He ignored me. "But Gordon made some good points about how we can train better for this type of activity."

"Yep," Scott chimed in from where he stood with Father, "and I think we should all discuss it."

My father nodded. "All right then, let's debrief."

We all began to make our way back to the house. This had been a rather eventful day for me. I won paintball for the first time, almost lost Scott, made _some_ headway in letting people know how I felt. Not too bad-

I looked up. How had I ended up in this position? In the front of the group were Father, Brains, and TinTin. Behind them, walking in a line of four, and taking up the entire trail from the beach were my brothers. And then of course, behind them, was me. Great.

I quickened my pace and caught up to them, coming up directly behind Virgil and Alan. Gordon was to the right of Alan and Scott to the right of Virg. I was on their heels, but they didn't seem to notice. They were engrossed in a discussion of the paintball events. After two minutes of no one making room for me, I eased back and resumed my solitary walk.

This was ridiculous. I wanted to be part of the group. Not all the time, but right now, I did. Determined, I narrowed my eyes at their backs. My heart began to thump in my chest. It was ludicrous that I'd be nervous about speaking to my brothers, but there it was. The hell with this. I needed to learn how to open my mouth.

Marching my way back to the center of the group, I put a hand on both Alan and Virgil's shoulders. They looked back at me. "Let me in."

Virgil smiled and Al was blinked like I was crazy, but they made room. In doing so, however, Gords got knocked off the path and into the brush.

Hopping his way out the bramble, my _formerly_ hairless brother began walking backwards in front of all four of us. Easy going and resourceful. He didn't complain about being knocked out of the line, just found a different way to fit in. But that was Gordon, trying to belong, despite his differences.

"Oh John, Scott!" Alan looked down the line as he spoke. "Brains and I were talking before and we think their might be a way to fortify One's exterior to allow her to fly at top altitude."

Scott looked interested. "It'd reduce the radiation exposure?"

Now that would be interesting. One had already broken the record for highest altitude of a non-rocket based aircraft, but she was still restricted to a certain height due to the galactic cosmic rays (GCRs) in the atmosphere that would penetrate the ship.

Virgil answered Scott. "NASA apparently came out with a new light-weight alloy that could be applied over One's fuselage."

"What about her windows?" I questioned.

Alan responded. "Not sure, but the capability for speed if she can go up even another 10 meters..."

I suddenly noticed that Gordon was no longer facing us. He was walking forward now, his hands thrust into his pockets. Of course. The four of us were together, so we were talking about planes and flight. I noticed that when filling us in on the conversation with Brains, Alan had started with 'John, Scott,' _not_ 'John, Scott, Gordon'. Wow, we really did talk about air and space constantly...

I could fix this. "Did Brains mention updates to Four?"

Gordon didn't even break his stride as he spun around on one foot and resumed his backwalk. The spark interest in his eyes was almost funny.

Alan looked confused. "No... Why would Four-"

"Because Four hasn't been updated in two years. All the other ships have been."

Scott shook his head. "But John, if we can increase One's altitude, the effects for IR are-"

I felt a shift to my left and Scott abruptly stopped talking. Virgil had done something.

"Actually, John, I _had_ wanted to see about getting her battery tank replaced. WASP just developed these new ones that are much safer if there's overheating. Plus, they're a lot more efficient."

"Oh! That reminds me!" Alan looked down the line. "Tonight at 7 there's this new documentary airing on solar-powered, battery run, gas-less planes."

"Seriously?" Scott asked, "We need to watch. If we could use it, the expenses would be significantly-"

Oh you had _got_ to be kidding me!

This time, Virgil intervened first. "Scott, Alan, focus. Gordon was telling us what updates he wanted to make to Four. As members of IR who may need to operate Four at some point, you should pay attention."

My brothers ceased their discussion and turned their attention back to Gords. He looked shocked. "Uh, wow, really? Uh, okay... Well, the current battery tank holds..."

As my brother began an incredibly boring, yet animated, lesson on the energy systems of submarines, I couldn't help but smile. Yes, we were all very different, with divergent interests and skill sets, but _that_ was what made us great. _That_ was why we could be a team. Gordon didn't need to be able to be in space, because Alan and I could handle that. And I didn't need to be great at combat, because Gordon and Scott would cover _that_. Together, we were a complete package. And although we didn't always get along, the bonds were solid and there were no gaps. If we frayed apart, it wouldn't be long before we twisted back together- stronger than before.

* * *

_It's finally finished! Thank goodness! Thank you all so much for sticking with this story despite it's long hiatuses toward the end. I really, really appreciated you all coming back. This story was very special to me- and I hope my brother would've enjoyed it. We're a few days shy on the one year anniversary of his death, so maybe it was appropriate that I finished it today..._

_If you get the chance, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story, this chapter, any other feedback..._

_Thanks!_


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